Corvo Nero, Colombo Bianco
by Donna della Penna
Summary: AX has tried to move on after Abel's disappearance several years ago and maintains its goal to stop Rosenkreuz Orden from ending all of humanity. Cecilia and Lavinia want to do their part for their cause. But what happens when the Crusnik returns to Rome?
1. Opening

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters seen in the original Trinity Blood television series. The plot of this fanfiction, any character other than those mentioned above, and the following passages however, do belong to me._

_Also, I would like to thank my English teacher (who understands German), without whose help the German versions of this passage about our favorite brothers would not make any sense.__Herzlichen Dank, Frau!_

Corvo Nero, Colombo Bianco

Prologue: On Cain and Abel

Black Raven, White Dove

Black Raven–  
he who brings misfortune;  
bearer of chaos, misery, and death;  
herald of sin and evil, creature to be feared.

White Dove–  
he who brings great hope;  
bearer of peace, happiness, and life;  
herald of purity and goodness, creature to be cheered.

Black Raven–  
being of vast intelligence;  
possessor of cleverness, resourcefulness, and mystery;  
he moves through the world in the shadows,  
and is often misunderstood by others;  
but he is not be regarded as a demon.

White Dove–  
creature of little intellect;  
possessor of basic ambitions, passions, and desires;  
he moves through the world in the light,  
and others think he exists to do good;  
but he is not always as timid as he seems.

The Black Raven can put an end to it all,  
end all of the strife the White Dove had brought,  
and rule on as the hero of peace.

If Cain the White Dove can ruin the world,  
then Abel the Black Raven can save the world.

* * *

_Schwarzer Rabe, Weiße Taube_

_Schwarzer Rabe–_  
_er, der Unglück bringt;_  
_Träger des Chaos, Elends, und Todes;_  
_Herold von Sünde und Übel, Kreatur, befürchtet zu werden._

_Weiße Taube–_  
_er, der große Hoffnung bringt;_  
_Träger des Friedens, Glücks, und Lebens;_  
_Herold von Reinheit und Güte, Kreatur, gejubelt zu werden._

_Schwarzer Rabe–_  
_ist von ausgedehnter Intelligenz;_  
_Besitzer der Klugheit, Findigkeit, und Geheimnisses;_  
_er bewegt durch die Welt in den Schatten, und wird oft von anderen missverstanden;_  
_aber er wird als ein Dämon nicht betrachtet._

_Weiße Taube–_  
_Kreatur kleinen Denkvermögens;_  
_Besitzer grundlegenden Strebens, Leidenschaften, und Wünsche;_  
_er bewegt durch die Welt im Licht, und anderen denken, dass er existiert, gut;_  
_zu machen, aber er ist nicht immer ebenso furchtsam als er scheint._

_Der Schwarze Rabe kann ein Ende zu ihm alle stellen,_  
_beendet allen Streit, den die Weiße Taube gebracht hatte,_  
_und regiert auf als dem Helden dem Frieden. _

_Wenn Cain die Weiße Taube die Welt vernichten kann,_  
_dann kann Abel der Schwarze Rabe die Welt sparen._


	2. One

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters seen in the original Trinity Blood television series. The plot of this fan-fiction and any character other than those mentioned above, however, do belong to me._

Corvo Nero, Colombo Bianco

One

"Last call! All travelers bound Roma must board the 9:15 train now!" a burly port man exclaimed through his speaking phone. The grand station in Bruxella was crowded with busy travelers, and even the port man had to watch his back. If he did not do so, he could very well be run over by another, cart-toting port man.

"Excuse me! Excuse me, Sir!" said a panicked female voice. The port man looked around and saw a young nun rushing toward him, her blue habit billowing out around her as she ran.

"Yes, Sister?"

She put her bags down and tried to catch her breath. "Has…the train…left yet?"

"No, not yet, Sister, but you only have a few more moments left to board."

She jumped. "What? Oh, no!" She ran off, not noticing she had left her bag behind.

"Sister! Sister, wait!"

"I can't, I— Dear heaven, where is my bag? My ticket was in there!"

The port man jogged over to her. "Here it is, Sister."

"Oh, thank you so much!" She delved into one of the pockets and pulled out a little blue piece of paper. "I was going mad!"

He grinned at her. "Don't mention it."

The engine's whistle blew loudly, nearly ready to leave, and steam wafted away from the wheel housings. The nun wailed in alarm and ran to the platform, leaping into the car just before yet another port man closed the door. She stood in the car as it started to move and sighed heavily. "Thank heaven!"

"Ticket, please." The nun jumped at the sound of the conductor's sudden appearance, and numbly handed the paper over.

He ran his eyes over the printed information on the ticket and punched a hole in it with the end of his pen. "All right," he said as he gave the ticket back. "Have a good trip, Sister."

"Thank you, Sir."

The young turned away from him and looked around. Most of the seats were taken already, and she began to think that she would have to move to another car. But then, just as her eyes passed over the car once again, she saw another nun in a blue habit like her own at the far end of the compartment, reading a book. She straightened her dress and slowly made her way down the aisle. It was all she could do to keep from falling over as the train picked up speed.

"Excuse me," she said to the other nun.

The woman in question looked up at her with blazing grey eyes. Thick black hair framed her face and fell down her back in waves. "Yes?"

"May I sit with you? All of the other seats are taken?"

"Oh, yes, of course." The grey-eyed, raven-haired nun put the book in her lap and reached for her bag on the seat opposite her. "There you are."

"Thank you." The newcomer dropped into the seat facing her companion and sighed again.

"'Hard time getting here?"

The other rolled her eyes. "Try nearly impossible to get here! The cab-driver refused to speed up, no matter how many times I told him that I was going to be late."

"Did his cab have a little charm on the inside, with green velvet cushions?"

"Yes," she replied in amazement.

"And did his horse wear a headdress with red and gold ostrich-feathers?"

"Yes, it did. Did you know him?"

The raven-haired woman laughed. "I do. I'm a native ofBruxella." She extended a slender, gloved hand. "My name is Cecilia Valois. I was a nun at the Saint Nedelya Church."

Cecilia's new companion, who had hair the color of caramel and blue-green eyes, extended her own hand politely. "I'm Lavinia Hughes, from Saint Mary's Cathedral in Lindum Colonia. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

"You were a nun at Saint Nedelya? That's in Trimontium, Macedonia isn't it?"

"Yes. You see, when I was a girl, a wealthy clan ruled Bruxelles, and liked to keep their eyes on everyone. My family's exotic appearance caused them to become greatly concerned, and my ability convinced them that we were Methuselah. (They didn't like to think of the Empire _or_ her children, let alone deal with the ones who lived in Europa.)"

Lavinia couldn't know about the nun's abilities, but she secretly agreed with her about her exotic appearance. In addition to her black hair and grey eyes, she possessed the deep coloring of a native of Hispania or Byzantium, and probably did little makeup-wise to intensify her complexion.

"Your ability?"

"I'm an acrobat with a mastery of flying blades, as was my mother and all of the women in her family. Needless to say, our prowess did not settle the clan's nerves. They were sure we were there to launch a coup d'état against them, I think. They harassed us so much that my father left his spectacles business in his partner's hands and took us to Trimontium, where my mother's family resides. I entered the convent of Saint Nedelya and stayed there when my parents returned to Bruxella."

"So your family is from Macedonia?"

"My mother's family is from there, anyway. My father's family is from Bruxella."

"Oh, I see. And you're on your way back to Trimontium now?"

"Oh, no, I'm going to Roma."

"Oh."

"What about you?"

"Mine was a merchant family of old, and we enjoyed relative wealth. In entered the convent when I was twelve."

"Did you like the convent?"

"Oh, yes! I loved the Sisters like a second family."

"Why did you leave, then?"

"The Prioress urged me to go to Roma."

"Why?"

Lavinia smiled. "I have abilities of my own."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I have heightened hearing and some acrobatic skills. Plus, I'm not too bad with a pistol."

"Really, now?"

"Indeed. Did your parish send you to Roma, too?"

"No," Cecilia replied gravely. "Saint Nedelya was raided by Methuselah radicals while I was here in Bruxella, so I thought I should go to Roma."

Lavinia narrowed her eyes. "You wish to join the AX?"

"Yes."

"I'm going to try to join, too."

"You are?"

"Yes. The Prioress thought I should put my ability to some use. 'Where better to do that than in the Vatican under Her Eminence's guidance?' she'd said."

Cecilia smiled at that, and then both nuns fell into silence for a while as the train thundered through the countryside of Gaul. Light spilled in through the leaves of the trees along both sides of the track. Their train passed by two others in sidings, waiting for the 9:15 to move on before they made their way to the station in Bruxella.

"What have you heard about AX, Sister Valois? The Prioress was not very forthcoming about it," Lavinia asked.

"I've not heard much about it either, other than its agents helped to prevent the Rosenkreuz Orden from causing a second Armageddon several years ago," Cecilia replied.

"_Really?_"

"Oh, yes. They are the true saviors of humanity."


	3. Zwei

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters seen in the original Trinity Blood television series. The plot of this fan-fiction and any character other than those mentioned above, however, do belong to me._

Corvo Nero, Colombo Bianco

Zwei

"How breathtaking!" Lavinia exclaimed in awe as she looked up at the great cross hanging above Saint Peter's Basilica. "It's so much more than the pictures I saw in the convent!"

"Yes, it truly is inspirational, isn't it?" Cecilia asked.

The two nuns had enjoyed their train ride across the Continent immensely, and found that they had much in common. They both loved classical music, they had both been sopranos in their churches' choirs, and they both liked the same sorts of books. They'd spent much of the trip chattering and giggling in their seats, and had only been silenced by the sight of the Vatican City upon exiting the station. The nuns had taken their time walking to the Basilica, soaking up every sight. Now, being here in front of Saint Peter's was amazing.

"Well, we won't accomplish much standing here, will we?" Cecilia asked, breaking the silence. "Shall we go inside?"

"After you," her companion replied cheerfully.

They made their way along the path leading to the grand stairs, exchanging nods with other priests and nuns as they went. Not surprisingly, quite a few eyebrows were raised at their presence; after all, two nuns wearing common blue habits, in a sea of white-habited Vatican nuns, were bound to cause suspicion.

"Honestly, it's as if they think us a threat!" Lavinia muttered. "Her Eminence _did_ send passes, after all. You'd think they'd know we were coming."

Cecilia was about to answer, but all thought of doing so was cut short when a terse, booming voice cried, "Halt in the name of His Eminence Francesco di Medici!"

The nuns ground to a halt and looked around wildly. A column of armor-clad soldiers was quickly drawing closer, spears, shields, and all. Leading the column was a lance-wielding man with blue hair.

"What on earth…!" Cecilia exclaimed. Instinctively, she and Lavinia tried to back away.

"_Don't_ even think of moving." They turned to see, much to their horror, a grey-haired woman wearing a bandana around her forehead and wielding a pair of crescent daggers.

"What on earth is going on here!" Lavinia cried. "We've done nothing wrong!"

"_That_ will have to be determined at a later time," the woman said coolly. Lavinia and Cecilia got the sense that she made her daggers glint in the sun on purpose.

The man and the rest of the soldiers, and the man said, "Good work keeping them here, Sister Paula."

"Thank you, Sir," she said.

He turned to Lavinia and Cecilia and scowled. "What business have you?"

Cecilia scowled right back at him. "Perhaps you would do us the kindness of introducing yourselves, _Sir_? My friend and I were merely walking up this path to the Vatican, being of no nuisance to anyone, and I thus find it a little more than unnecessary to be stopped in such a manner!"

Taken aback, the man stared at her blankly, but he soon regained his composure. "My name is—"

"Surely, you aren't going to cater to this _girl's_ demands, Sir!" the dagger-wielder named Paula exclaimed.

"Be of ease, Sister," replied her superior.

"Yes, Sir."

He looked back at Lavinia and Cecilia. "I am Brother Petro Orcini, the Knight of Destruction and the Chief of the Department of Inquisition." When Paula said nothing, he went on, "And this is my Deputy Chief, Sister Paula Souwauski."

"Otherwise known as the Lady of Death," added Paula ominously.

"Who might the two of you be?"

Lavinia spoke first. "I am Sister Lavinia Hughes, here to speak with Cardinal Sforza."

"And I am Cecilia Valois, here to do the same."

Petro gestured for his troops to stand down and put himself at ease. "You're here to speak with Her Eminence, are you? Have you proper authorization?"

"Yes," the nuns replied in unison. They both rummaged through their purses and found the passes they had been given.

Petro took the slips of parchment from the two women, immediately recognizing the feel of the Vatican's signature paper against his skin. So, too, was the Cardinal's unmistakable mark at the bottom of the paper. The nuns were of no threat.

As Petro handed their passes back to them, he said to Paula, "They're legitimate. Go and find one of Her Eminence's people so these two can be escorted inside."

"Yes, Sir." The dagger-wielder put her weapons back into their scabbards and hurried away, the bright red cape she wore billowing out behind her as she walked.

"Is this the part when we're searched from head to toe, Brother Orcini?" Lavinia asked dryly. The man growled, but said nothing.

Soon after, Paula returned in a flourish with another priest at her side. He did not wear the red capes of the Inquisition; rather, he looked like many of the other priests. He did, however, have many gleaming metal adornments hanging from his robes, a white length of cloth around his neck, and a red armband on his left arm. His face was blank as he walked along, even as he greeted Petro.

"I was informed by Sister Paula Souwauski that my presence was needed here," he said flatly. Lavinia and Cecilia blinked at this.

"It seems that these two ladies have clearance to speak with Her Eminence," Petro replied.

The newcomer nodded slightly. "Understood. I was also instructed by Cardinal Francesco di Medici that the Department of Inquisition's patrol was allowed to move on."

"Very well, then." Petro nodded to the two nuns and led off, with Paula and the rest of the soldiers behind him.

"Wow," Cecilia said. "I wouldn't want to meet _them_ on a bad day."

The priest before them spoke next. "Requesting confirmation of identities." Lavinia and Cecilia looked at each other in bewilderment, and then repeated their names and business for him. "Sister Cecilia Valois and Sister Lavinia Hughes…. Identities confirmed. Requesting that you follow me to Cardinal Caterina Sforza's quarters." With that, he turned on his heel and began to walk back the way he came. Lavinia and Cecilia followed numbly.

"Father…?" Lavinia asked.

"Proceed with inquiry."

"…Ah, may I ask you what your name is?"

"Positive. Name: Tres Iques, agent of Arcanum Cella Ex Dono Dei, division of the Ministry of Holy Affairs."

None said a thing after that. Tres was oblivious to the relief that had washed over the two nuns behind him. They had at least been told who they were dealing with before anything catastrophic happened this time.

It was a long walk from the main gates, where Tres' mere presence prevented the guards from asking anything of him, to the Cardinal's quarters. Though the Vatican bustled with activity, there was still an eerie silence about the place. Lavinia and Cecilia hardly had the time to really dwell on this, though, for they were too busy trying to keep pace with Tres. At that rate, they reached the office that lay just meters from the women's dormitory.

Tres knocked on the door with the brass knocker. "What is it?" was the response.

"Father Tres Iques, requesting entrance."

"Come in, Father."

He opened the door and held it open for the nuns, who took the hint and entered the room. Behind the desk sat a regal-looking woman with a monocle and flowing, curled blond hair. She wore heavy red garments that were embellished with gold thread and jewels, and had the same metal decorations hanging from her bodice. She was undoubtedly the Cardinal.

"Welcome, ladies," she said. "I am Cardinal Sforza, and this is my assistant, Sister Kate Scott."

The nuns started, noticing for the first time a fuzzy image of a nun, wearing a white habit with a red armband and the metal adornments that the AX seemed to be so fond of. "Ah…," was all they managed to say.

The woman named Kate laughed. "Don't be alarmed, ladies. You haven't lost any of your sanity. I'm a hologram, you see."

"Oh," they said.

"You're the hopeful recruits, I take it?" the Cardinal asked.

Cecilia shook herself from her thoughts. "Ah, yes, Your Eminence. I am Cecilia Valois."

"And I am Lavinia Hughes."

"It's good to have you here. Won't you two have a seat?" Caterina replied, gesturing to two chairs in front of her desk. Tres took their suitcases from them and placed them by the door as the nuns took their seats.

"It was very kind of to consider us as new recruits, Your Eminence," Lavinia said earnestly.

"Oh, I've done more than _that_, Sister Lavinia."

"Have you, Eminence?" Cecilia asked.

"Yes. As it happens, we are in the middle of an intense investigation right now, and there is no doubt in my mind that your skills will be of invaluable use to us."

"Do you mean it?" Lavinia asked, unable to contain her excitement.

"I do indeed," Caterina replied with a chuckle. "Before I go on about that, however, I must apologize about your treatment by the Inquisitorial Department. It is because of this very investigation that security is of the utmost importance."

"We understand, Eminence. There's no need to explain."

Tres cut in at that moment. "Shall I request that all senior agents currently at the Vatican report to this location, Cardinal Sforza?"

"There's no need, Father Tres. I've already done that," Kate replied calmly.

"Understood."

"What exactly is the AX investigating, Eminence?" Cecilia asked.

Caterina laced her fingers together in front of her. "We've received reports of rogue Methuselah acting violently, killing both Terrans and Methuselah, and we believe it may be linked to a political movement of some sort. Starting tonight, there will be nightly patrols of the Vatican City and of Roma."

"And you want us to start immediately?"

"Yes. Of course, there will a brief assessment of your skills—that is why my senior agents have been called here—but I think you will do well."

Just then, a soft male voice called to the Cardinal from the corridor. "May we come in, Your Eminence?"

"Yes, enter."

The door swung open quietly, and a group of three priests and four nuns filed into the room. The men wore the same white sashes as Tres, and all wore the armbands and metal adornments.

"Sister Lavinia, Sister Cecilia, welcome to the AX."


	4. Three

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters seen in the original Trinity Blood television series. The plot of this fan-fiction and any character other than those mentioned above, however, do belong to me._

Corvo Nero, Colombo Bianco

Three

Lavinia and Cecilia did not get the chance to recover from the afternoon assessment. They met with the Cardinal again and were sent to the Vatican's seamstresses to be fitted for their new white habits. Then it was back to Caterina's office to receive their AX codenames. It was evening by that time, and nearly time for the patrol. The Agents were divided into teams and sent out into the night.

Right now, near two o'clock in the morning, Lavinia and her partner, Father Hugue de Watteau, who was in Roma for once, were traipsing through the dark northwestern section of the city, an area where many wealthy merchants and nobles lived. Security was always tight in this area, more so with the threat of attacks from Methuselah, and quite a few of the families' guards beckoned to them as they passed. The blonde priest merely held the heavy cross that hung from his neck to them and dispelled any fears they might have had about two people walking around at such an hour. For her part, Lavinia was impressed by how much influence she held know that she wore the Vatican's whites. Cross or no cross, she normally would have had to stop and allow the guard to question her for identification before she was allowed to move on.

The pair reached the end of their territory and began to double back when Kate's voice came in over their earpieces. Unused to the sudden voice, Lavinia jumped a little. _"Iron Maiden requesting status report from Agents Sword Dancer and Huntress."_

"No action in our section so far," Hugue replied quietly. "Have the others found anything?"

"_Agents Gunslinger and Shadow Stalker believed they found something pertinent not twenty-five minutes ago near an old storage building. Shadow Stalker went in to investigate, but found nothing, so she and Gunslinger regrouped and moved on. No one else has reported anything."_

"All right, then. We'll report in if we stumble on something. Out."

"_Out."_

Lavinia and Hugue walked a little while longer until they reached a large intersection, the impromptu center of their territory. Via Salice lay to the east; Via Zavatozza to the west; Via Cavai to the south, where they'd just come from; Via Tallo to the north, which would lead them back to the Vatican. They had entered from the north and immediately begun to work in a cross-shaped path, first going to the east, doubling back to this spot, and going west. Then it was back here to the south, and here they were again where they'd begun. From this angle, however, Lavinia noticed a small offshoot within the western street, even though it was hidden in the shadows. "Should we check that alleyway, Father Hugue?"

He followed her gaze and nodded. "Yes. It may be riddled with traps, however, since it's so enclosed. Keep your guard up."

"All right." He watched as she furrowed her eyebrows in concentration, having been told about her hearing ability prior to leaving the Vatican. He found it fascinating, in the back of his mind, that her eyes dulled as more of her power was used.

The pair cautiously set off down the western street again, turning to their left not far from the entrance. This alleyway was no larger than some of the corridors in the Vatican and led to a small courtyard of sorts, from what they could tell, completely enclosed by buildings. Lavinia had to decrease her power to compensate for the echo of their footsteps; still, she was able to hear many people moving around ahead in the courtyard. And some of them didn't sound too happy.

"_Will you go out and look for those idiots?"_

She put her hand on the priest's arm and pulled back; he looked back at her over his shoulder. "Someone has been sent out to look around…a man I think, judging by the step." He nodded and pressed himself into the shadows. To make sure the nun was not seen in her bright white habit, something he had never understood for women in the field, he had given her his cloak as a means of disguise. He didn't worry about himself too much, purely out of habit.

The man Lavinia mentioned appeared at the end of the alleyway and remained there in unmoving silence for a long moment. Then he was joined by two women. Hugue tapped her on the arm. She was already focused on them.

"_Do you see them, Ludovico?"_ a light-voiced woman asked.

"_No, not at all. I can't believe they're this late!"_

"_The Maestro isn't going to like this,"_ replied a deeper-voiced woman. _"We're counting on those weapons."_

"_Really, Gemma? 'Hadn't considered that at all."_

"_Shut up, Galiana!"_

"_Ladies, ladies, let us go inside and inform the Maestro."_ The two women begrudgingly did as he suggested, and they walked away.

"…Did you hear all of that?" Hugue asked quietly.

"Yes," she replied automatically, following their footsteps into what seemed to be a warehouse within the courtyard, possibly connected to one of the buildings. She could hear more voices from their comrades, as well, and grimaced when the "Maestro's" booming voice cut through a brief silence among the group.

"What is it?"

"They're all gathered somewhere in there, and they're definitely planning something."

"Mmm." Hugue paged Kate.

"_Go ahead, Sword Dancer."_

"We're in an alley off Via Zavatozza. I think there's something going on. How do you want us to proceed?" he said quickly.

"_Gather as much intel as you can and proceed with caution."_

"Right." He stood up from the wall. "We're clear to move in. Let's go."

The Agents crept up to the end of the alley, still hiding behind the wall. A few people were still standing in the courtyard, and it was only when a sharp-tongued woman came out of the storage house and got them that they went inside. Hugue and Lavinia left the alley and took cover behind a cart near the door, which had been left open a little. Light spilled onto the cobbled courtyard, probably from a small fire inside, and the voices had died down to a bare whisper. They steeled themselves and snuck into the crate-filled warehouse and settled in a pocket between some cloth-covered boxes, well away from the gathered twenty or so men and women. One burly older man, whom they suspected to be this "Maestro," sat atop a small box, elevating himself from the floor where the others sat, arms crossed over his chest. A woman stood just behind him, and together they watched the others talk amongst themselves. Lavinia was generous with her power this time.

"_No, they're still not here,"_ Gemma was saying to another woman.

"_I don't believe this!"_

"_What do you expect from Gaetano and his crew? 'Can't trust them as far as you can throw them."_

"_If we didn't require their expertise in explosives, I wouldn't have suggested them as affiliates on this,"_ Galiana said.

The woman standing next to the Maestro stepped forward. _"Whether or not Gaetano decides to show his face tonight, we must all be ready to strike at three. That means we have to be focused, at our strongest, and clear about the mission. Now, have all of you fed tonight?"_

Lavinia gasped at that last remark; Hugue looked at her questioningly. She mouthed, "Vampires" to him, and he snarled.

"_Good. This means we won't have any mishaps like the last time. Shall I go on with the briefing, Maestro, or would you like to explain it to them?"_

"…_Go on, Maestra Seconda."_

"_Very well. We will attack the Vatican at three o'clock, just after the third Nocturn begins. Most of the Terrans in the Vatican will be tired and in bed, so they'll make easy targets. We won't let _our _rebellion fail like those fools' in Albion a few years ago."_

Even Hugue heard that much, which was plenty of evidence to bring to the Inquisition so they could arrest the Methuselah. The Agents made their way their way along the narrow space between the crates, making sure to place their feet carefully so nothing would shift and give them away.

"What was that?" a Methuselah exclaimed.

"What was what?"

"I saw something back there behind the crates! It was white!" The Maestra Seconda herself blurred away and reappeared atop a high stack of crates. From her perch, she saw two figures looking back at her, and she immediately recognized the ornate crosses hanging from their necks. In a rage she leapt from the boxes and bolted across the floor, fangs bared. "Vatican slime!"

Shots rang out behind the crates where the Agents stood, blasting through plywood and landing in the Maestra Seconda's chest. The female collapsed mid-stride, momentum carrying her another two meters. She writhed in agony and shrieked, clutching at her chest.

"Silver!" one of the Methuselah cried. Before they could react further, Lavinia appeared on top of a crate, guns blazing. Five more Methuselah went down with blood-curdling screams.

"Seize and kill them!" the Maestro bellowed.

Hugue and Lavinia were out of the warehouse door like a shot and pounded across the courtyard. The Methuselah were not far behind. They turned down the southern street at the intersection. "How many are we dealing with, Lavinia?"

"Seven." She heard one pulling ahead of the others and unsnapped the cloak Hugue had given her. She took a running leap off of some wooden kegs, threw the cloak away, and spun herself around as she drew her pistol. Three shots were fired; two found their mark in one pursuer and the other ricocheted off of the cobblestones. She caught up with Hugue again.

"Make that six." Another Methuselah pulled ahead of the group, focusing on the blonde priest. Two of his comrades followed his lead. They went into haste mode, cutting Lavinia off from him and surrounding him. She broke away and ran on alone, followed by the other three.

"Terran trash!" the male vampire in front of Hugue snarled. "How _dare_ you think you and that whore could sneak into our territory and escape with your lives?"

"We _do_ dare," he replied dryly. "But, all of us in the AX are like that."

"Bastard!" one of the females shouted, moving in to draw first blood. Hugue took her weight on his staff as he held in front of him and kicked her away; the other female, Gemma, rounded on him from behind. The first moved in again, probably aiming to hold him while the other killed him. He broke his staff apart and slashed her chest open, then spun to lash out at Gemma.

The male joined with a roar and caught Hugue in the jaw with a well-placed punch. The priest reeled and stumbled back, barely catching the vampire's self-formed blade with his own. He felt a dagger at his neck, knowing Gemma had taken advantage of him while he was preoccupied.

"Give up, Terran!" she sneered in his ear. "You've no way to out-match us!" The male let out a scream and fell over. "What?" She was just in time to see Lavinia draw a dagger of her own and leapt away before she was hit. She fully expected to see the nun running toward her when she'd righted herself, but only saw the priest and…her dead comrade, writhing as arterial spray gushed from his throat. The nun was nowhere to be seen! Surely, no Terran was a fast as her kind? "But, that's impossible!"

"No, it isn't." Gemma jerked to the side, seeing nothing yet again, feeling a pain in her side like getting punched by a prize-fighter. A flash of white appeared in front of her; there stood Lavinia, dagger in hand, white habit stained red by blood. "Hello."

"You sick bitch! What in hell are you?"

She did not answer with words. She quickly back-flipped away, lifting off after the second flip, and fired two more knives at the female. The latter, foregoing her shock, launched herself toward the nun in full haste mode. The nun matched her every move, at the same speed, rivaling the fastest Methuselah she had ever known. They became wrapped in a high-speed chase, darting up and down the alley and off building after building. Then, Gemma kicked the nun when she was a few seconds too slow. The Agent slammed into the side of a shop from the force, crashing through the wooden door. The female did not look back as she refocused on the priest. With revenge for her partners in her blood, she formed the sharpest blade she could from her arm and charged toward Hugue. "You will pay for interfering, Terran!"

Hugue held out his staff and braced. Gemma leapt into the air with a roar. A volley of silver needles hit her in the back and neck, and a through-and-through shot to the jugular ended her life. The priest backed away as the Methuselah's body hit the ground with a solid thud.

Lavinia staggered forward, retrieving the needles and other weapons as she went. "Are you all right, Father Hugue?"

"Yes, I'm all right. You?"

"Sister Alma will put her healing powers to good use later, to be sure," she replied with a wince. At that moment, doors and windows creaked open, and people poked their heads out to see what all of the commotion had been about. The Agents dropped into fighting stance immediately.

The tenant who lived above the shop with the now destroyed door ran out first, hands held up in peace. "Please, do not worry! We are no threat to either of you!" Hugue and Lavinia relaxed a little, but to be safe Hugue stood between him and his partner. "You…you two are from the Vatican, yes?"

"We are," Lavinia replied. "We serve Her Eminence the Cardinal directly."

"I thought as much. I want to thank you so much for what you've done. We were all terrified of those radicals, absolutely terrified."

"I'm sure you were," said Hugue. "What do you know of them?"

"Only that they had a vendetta against the Vatican for some reason. I can't imagine why. The Methuselah here live in peace here, for the most part, and none are forced to live in the Ghetto in Albion thanks to His Holiness."

"I see. Tell me, do you own that shop?"

"Oh, no, but I am good friends with the man who does." He gasped when he was given several gold coins. "What is—?"

"Take it. It's to help pay for a new door, since it was during our fight that it was damaged."

"Oh, thank you. I'll give it to him as soon as I see him."

"Thank you, Sir." He ushered the resident back into their homes before contacting Kate.

"_Go ahead."_

"Sword Dancer and Shadow Stalker reporting in. We've made contact with the enemy and have gotten something of a lead. We're on the way back to headquarters."

"_Very well. Are either of you in need of medical attention?"_

"We both are, but Shadow Stalker more so."

"_I'll have Sisters Three on standby in the infirmary. What information do you have?"_

"We'll talk on the way." He looked over at Lavinia, leaning against a wall. "Come. Let's go back."

She sighed heavily and pushed away from the all with a grunt. "Do you think the other Methuselah will attack anyway?"

"If they do, we'll have to be there to greet them, won't we?" To Kate, he said, "We encountered a group of radical Methuselah here in our sector…."


	5. Vier

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters seen in the original Trinity Blood television series. The plot of this fan-fiction and any character other than those mentioned above, however, do belong to me._

Corvo Nero, Colombo Bianco

Vier

"Do you hear anything?" Sister Leona Williams whispered to Lavinia in the darkness.

"Not yet…" the other nun replied, "…nothing probative, anyway. 'Just the odd pair of stray cats."

"Right. Kate?"

"_Go ahead, Shadow Stalker."_

"Huntress and I have yet to discover anything—" She turned at the quick tug on her sleeve.

"_Shadow Stalker? Shadow Stalker, come in."_

"Belay that. We've made contact. Out." The two nuns sidled off of the narrow walkway and hid behind a stack of crates in an alley. They were in an area of Roma populated primarily by artisans, full of small shops with adjoining warehouses and living quarters above. The streets were small and cobbled, like the rest of the city, only the stones here had been well-worn with use by people with horse-drawn carts.

The buildings were very tall here, to accommodate the artisans' workspaces and family abodes. Even someone without enhanced abilities could hear voices and vehicles moving around. The sound of a horse's hooves and its worn dogcart rattling behind it echoed off the walls loudly, though it was probably still a long way's off. Leona looked at the other nun questioningly. "Anything?"

She furrowed her eyebrows, trying to concentrate more. "Definitely Methuselah…they're using their native language…I'm not sure what they're talking about at this point, though."

"How many?"

"…Three males."

They waited until the distinct shadow of a horse and cart hit the corner wall of a building and grew smaller as it drew closer. Leona motioned that they take to the roofs and disappeared into a white cloud; Lavinia followed, leaping from fire-escape to fire-escape until she reached the top. Her feet had just touched the concrete when the dogcart rounded the corner. Two sat in the back amidst tarps and boxes while another drove.

"_So what exactly is it that we're doing?"_

"_You heard the boss! We can't talk about it until we get close to the warehouse!"_

"_Well, lucky for you two, we're only a few turns away from our destination,"_ said the driver.

"_Really, boss?"_

"_Yes. After the so-called 'Maestro's' little mishap and unfortunate demise a few days ago, it's up to the smaller rebel forces to do what we need to do. So, after some negotiating, I've managed to acquire some weapons of our own."_

"_But, our group isn't going to be enough to fight against the Methuselah and Terrans here in Roma, never mind the Vatican."_

"_You're right, but I'm also negotiating with others. If all goes well, we can band together and increase our chances of success."_

Lavinia released her power and paged in with Kate. _"Go ahead, Huntress."_

"Shadow Stalker and I are currently on a roof above a group of Methuselah en route to a warehouse for a weapons drop. They're planning to join up with other small radical groups and attack civilians her in Roma and then the Vatican," she muttered.

"_When?"_

"I don't know, they didn't say. What's our next move?"

"_Pursue and try to find out, then report in."_

"Out."

Leona looked up. "Well?"

"We pursue and try to get more intel."

"All right. It looks like they're heading for one of the Via Verselli warehouses—a lot of them are old and broken down and full of criminal hideouts as it is."

"Say no more. Let's go." Leona led off once again, quickly dematerializing from the top down and taking off into the dark night in a white stream of particles, looking like mist to the unsuspecting. She soared high above the houses, trying to locate them around a maze of clotheslines laden with intimates and dresses and pants and window-boxes overflowing with herbs and flowers. Lavinia pulled ahead briefly, using her Methuselah-like speed, darting off to the northeast, and Leona followed. Eventually the cart pulled up in front of one of the better-looking warehouses in the area—although that was an overstatement, since the wooden door was missing several planks in several places, as was the building itself. The three males did not get out of the cart; rather, they exchanged words with their contact inside the building from there. Leona reformed next to the junior nun as she listened to what they said, as well as the activity within. "There's about twenty inside handling goods, and there's a female just inside the door identifying him right now."

"'Any idea what kinds of weapons are in there?"

"Heavy weapons, by the sound of their struggling and of the resonance on the ground. They have at the very least rifles and mobile cannons." The female at the door opened it with a squeal, enough so the dogcart could drive past, and closed it again. She concentrated harder, trying to hear what exactly was going on, but Leona stopped her. "Sister?"

"Don't overtax yourself. I'll go in."

"Are you sure?"

"Don't worry about me. Just keep watch out here. I'll try to solidify somewhere safe so you can contact me with the earpiece."

"All right."

Leona dematerialized and took a long, sweeping dive from the florist shop's roof and stopped at the bottom of the warehouse door. Deciding it was the best way inside, she slipped under the door and hugged the wall, coming to rest behind a tall crate in the corner and reforming. The Methuselah had gathered around the males in the dogcart in the middle of the building, several meters away. The nun turned to mist and drew closer, scuttling between old piles of junk and tools, through hole-riddled crates, and around steel girders. But there wasn't anywhere that could hide her bright white habit near them. She followed a girder up into the raftings and settled on a support beam, reforming slowly should it protest against her weight. Thankfully it held. She was now perched above them, close enough to the roof that she could hear their voices' echoes.

"I know you said your group was small, Signor Angelo," one male was saying to the driver, "but this is a surprise."

"Sirdar warned me of your questionable humor," replied the other male. "As it happens, we are _not_ the only ones in our group—the others are on a mission of their own as we speak."

"Come, come, do not be so upset. I merely jest. I cannot tell you how many times this past week I have had to deal with miscalculations."

"You will excuse me, Sir, for not sympathizing with you, but I am not a man of idleness, especially when it comes to my work. I have come here as you requested, so what have you for me?"

"The direct sort, eh? Very well." The male waved at two Methuselah behind him, who promptly came forward with a covered crate. "These are just complimentary items, you understand, as a measure of good will."

"What are they?"

"Mobile grenades, my good Sir." He took a crowbar from one of the vampires behind him and pried open the lid to expose a dozen launchers and at least two dozen rounds nestled in hay.

"I don't think we need grenades, Sir—"

"Not even if these are packed with metal bits? You want to strike during the day when the civilians are out, do you not? These are perfect for all the _palazzi_ around Roma."

"How do you expect us to attack during the day?"

"With _these,_" he said, opening another crate when the vampire brought it forward. "It is full of special cloaks direct from the Empire, the ones Nobles use when they leave the homeland on official business to protect them from the sun. You need only to have your people slip them on, fire the grenades, and leave."

"How can you be sure it works? The cloak, I mean?"

"I have used such a thing myself for business purposes and sold many to my customers." Angelo snorted. "But you can think on that. I have over here the knives and firearms you requested." He opened another crate, the first in a stack of six, filled with piles of knives in scabbards and pistols and rifles arranged neatly in straw bedding. "_These_ are modeled after the silver-firing pistols the police and Vatican clergymen and –women use, although the barrel has been shortened."

"How effective are they?"

"_Very."_ He took one. "Allow me to demonstrate, my good Sir." He took aim at a pile of broken wood and fired at one particularly large board. The short barrel made a sharp crack, and in such an amphitheater-like building Leona's ears were throbbing. When she looked at the woodpile, she realized that he had pretty much hit the board in the middle and vaporized it. "There is kickback, to be sure, but I don't feel it is anything uncontrollable with a little practice."

"Very impressive," Angelo mused.

"Aaaaaah, but you wish to see what you have really wanted, yes?" He pulled the tarp off of one shallow crate, pried the lid off, and lifted a long scepter from the straw, brushing a few blades away. "This is the new plasma staff you requested. Here."

Angelo took the staff from the other male and fussed with it, tossing it back and forth between both hands a few times and waved it around. "You're as good as your word, I must say, Sir. This is perfectly balanced." The other vampires piled up some metal scraps before him and leapt back, putting some twenty meters between themselves and him; one lead the horse and dogcart away to the complete other side of the building.

"Why not try it once, Signor Angelo?" He, too, leapt back.

"All right, I will." He back up some, so that he had about five meters distance between him and the pile. The metal at the end was fashioned into an ornate cage, the spindles curving like young ivy, as thin as a pencil, encasing a green crystal. It began to glow, illuminating almost the entire warehouse from the reaction of what had to be a laser in a vacuum chamber and a halogen gas. The atmosphere grew heavy until Angelo drove the butt end of the scepter into the ground. A flash of green followed, blinding everyone. When their eyes finally refocused, they saw nothing but a lightning bolt-shaped char mark on the floor where the plasma beam had travelled, and a smoking pile of melted metal, still glowing red-hot in places.

The dealer rejoined him. "Imagine what you could do in the open, Signor."

Angelo grinned so widely he looked like a tiger baring its teeth. "I've a certain head of the Inquisition in mind…."

Leona dematerialized quickly and raced through a hole in the roof, as the vampires were still in the safety of the old warehouse crates. In a flourish, she rejoined Lavinia, who stopped holding her breath as the senior nun reformed. "Thank the Lord! I was terrified when I saw that green light!"

"God be praised, indeed."

"What did you find out?"

"To say that it is a weapons exchange is an understatement. They have pistols modeled off of ours and shrapnel grenades and knives." She paged Kate. "What you just saw was the wrath of his new plasma staff."

"_Go ahead, Shadow Stalker."_

"Kate, we have a major weapons drop on our hands, but we're far too outnumbered. Who's available?"

"_Gunslinger is near your location. I'll send him to you right away."_

"No one else?"

"_They're en route to Sword Dancer's and Viper Queen's location right now. It's urgent."_

"What's happened?"

"_They've intercepted a raid on the monastery of _Santa Maria sopra Minerva_ on the other side of Roma."_

Leona stiffened. "Where is Gunslinger right now, Kate?"

"_Why do you ask?"_

"Angelo said some of his people were on their own mission right now. Where is he?"

"_You don't mean—?"_

"Where is he, Kate?"

* * *

The Abbott nearly tripped over his robes as the nun from the Vatican shoved him into the catacomb. The two priests with him caught him by the arms. "Sister, is this necessary?"

"Monsignor, I must insist that you flee from the monastery through the underground tunnels. You'll be safer."

"But, it is my duty as a servant of God to protect this monastery!" He turned to her. "You _cannot_ deprive me of my duty!"

"And in all due respect, it is _my_ duty as a servant of God and Her Eminence Cardinal Sforza to protect those of the True Faith! Now _go_ before you are discovered!"

"If I am to be killed by the will of the Lord, I shall do so in His house!"

"Father—!" She shrieked when a Methuselah landed on her back and sent her to the ground. He held her down by the back of the head. Another Methuselah ran up behind him and drew her pistol, killing both of the Abbott's escorts.

"Good job, Erica," said the male. "Now we just need to take care of _him_."

"How shall I do that?" She spun her revolver's chamber after reloading. "Shall I make a cross out of bullets? Or shall I just drain his blood?"

"Run, Monsignor!" the Vatican nun cried.

"But, Sister Cecilia—"

"_RUN!"_

"Shut up, Terran!" the male snapped. "Kill him!" Erica fired two shots at the Abbott, only hitting him once in the left shoulder. He finally took Cecilia's advice and ran down the corridor. The female followed.

"That isn't good enough, Monsignor! All those ridiculous robes will slow you down and I'll catch you!"

The male cocked her head to the side. "As for _you_, Terran…." She freed her arm from under his leg. The sudden movement released the spring-loaded blade on her arm. She quickly lashed out at him, cutting his side and startling him enough that she could roll away from him.

"_Bitch!"_ He reared up, drawing a knife. She twisted away again, hitting him in the face with her metal shin-guard. She drew her own knife, the blade made with a steel-silver alloy, and slashed his neck open. He howled as his blood reacted with the metal; for good measure she cut him again across the left bicep. She sheathed the knife and left him there, taking off down the corridor. All of the commotion had blown out some of the torches mounted on the walls, making the not-so-well-lit tunnel even darker. It was during a time like this when she wished she had enhanced eyesight like one of the other senior nuns so she could see in the dark.

She reached a sharp bend in the corridor and drew her pistol. Pressed against the wall, already far from the entrance (which was just a small archway in the distance), she stood silent, contemplating what to do. She couldn't hear anything echoing back at her from further along the path. She wondered if that female had taken the Abbott away to kill him. "How long do you plan on standing there, Terran?" She whirled around and saw the female's form melded with the stone ceiling, blood dripping from her chin and neck. "Don't bother moving on, Terran. I already drank him _dry!_" She fired at the vampire, but her bullets only hit old stone—she had phased back into it.

Cecilia began to run back for the entrance. There was no way she would survive with that female in this tight, dark corridor. She had long ago abandoned her cumbersome petticoats, tossing it away while she'd been fighting in the main part of the church, and even in her standard-issue boots, she was able to fly. Her veil was a few strands of completely gone, and the loose bun she kept her hair in had come undone for the most part. The entrance was drawing near. She could see the dull glint of the light outside in the male's spilled blood.

The female formed in front her like a jack-in-the-box, grinning savagely, eyes glowing red. She couldn't stop in time. She catapulted toward the half-rock vampire, used her shoulders as a brace, and vaulted over her, ducking as best she could in the cramped space. The female snarled and hardened the rock on her shoulders. The nun's hands were sliced open on the razor-sharp edges. She landed and made for the door but was snagged by a hand formed from rock, an extension of the female's reach clamping down on her ankle. She looked up as the Methuselah turned around. Little pieces of rock fell away as she moved toward the nun, trying to follow her complex movements. Cackling, the rock covering her hand burst away from the sword she manifested from her arm. She pulled back to gather herself.

Cecilia sidled out of the way just as the blade slammed into the ground next to her head. She'd drawn the knife she'd used to kill the male—it nestled nicely into the female's throat, through her windpipe. Blood oozed from her mouth and spilled onto the nun's arm. The blade arm fell limp. The nun struggled and broke her ankle free. She twisted her knife and ripped it out of the side of the female's throat; she collapsed and the rock cracked and fell around her.

The Agent pulled herself together and ran out of the catacomb, remembering that Hugue was out in the main church. The catacomb was in the basement, accessed by a door located behind the altar and the main chapel. She and Hugue had followed a group of Methuselah to the church of _Santa Maria sopra Minerva_ earlier in the evening, after they spotted them on their patrol. This church had been under Vatican radar anyway, as rumor had it that several vampires had converted to Catholicism and were stationed there. To have a sinister-looking group on their way over in the middle of the night made the situation all the more suspicious. The Agents had checked in with Kate and moved in, entering behind their targets. They thought they'd gone unnoticed, but the same female, Erica, had alerted the others to their presence…not that they let the Agents know that right away. The Methuselah met near the altar. Then the monks filed in for early-morning services, and the slaughter began. The Abbott appeared to find out what all of the commotion was about. The traitors surrounded him. The Agents had burst from their position in the knave and were greeted amiably by one of the vampires. They were ambushed by Erica and broke away long enough for Cecilia to take the Abbott tot eh catacomb. Now she just hoped the blonde priest was still alive.

She made it up the last few steps to the main level and bolted through the doorway. Hugue was pinned down by three Methuselah. The leader had taken his sword and had it pointed at his neck. She vaulted off of the pews, high into the air above the aisle, and threw all of her knives at the vampires surrounding her partner. One went down, freeing Hugue's arm. She landed in the aisle and back-flipped away from the sword-wielding leader. "Get back here, Terran, and let me send you off with your friend"

He raised the sword to slice her chest open but hit her armored corset. "What?"

She stepped on the blade, hooking it between her sole and her heel and slashed his face with the blade on her arm. He dropped the sword and leapt away. She charged, cart-wheeling until she could use his shoulder as a pedestal. Mid hand-stand, she drew a dagger from the holder on her thigh and slashed his throat, and landed behind him. He collapsed, hacking up blood, while she darted back to get Hugue's sword.

The priest, meanwhile, had defeated the vampire left to guard him and was gathering himself. He saw the other traitor get up, blood gushing over his cassock, and lurch for the nun. Energy crackled around his hand. "Cecilia!"

"Damn you, Terran _wench!_ Lucky for _me_, you didn't use a knife with silver!" A silver throwing-needle lodged in his forehead; she'd thrown it at him before he could react, as fast as a viper. She ran past the body and rejoined Hugue.

"Father, are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine." He took the sword back. "Where is the Abbott?"

"I couldn't save him."

"What?"

"I was pinned down and that female went after him in the meantime."

"Damnation!" he growled. He relented a little at her flinch. "'Nothing to do now but report back to Kate." He tried to page in….

"What's the matter?"

"There's interference. Does your earpiece work?"

She tried it. "No, just static."

"Let's go." He brushed past her.

"But, Father Hugue, shouldn't we—?"

"No. Something isn't right here."

"_You couldn't be more right!"_ They found themselves on the ground amidst a pile of broken marble and wood from the pews. A pack of vampires surrounded them. Glowing green energy above them illuminated the entire church. It was Angelo, and he had come with his brand new plasma staff, ready to use it on a _real_ Agent from the Vatican, rather than a pile of scrap metal. He laughed and charged the staff up again just as shots rang out from the main door. The Methuselah ducked and ran for cover. A blur of white engaged Angelo, who went into haste mode and brought the fight up into the transept of the church. Shots continued to rain down on the other Methuselah, occasionally broken by the piercing scream of an injured one.

"Father Hugue, what is this?"

"Reinforcements," he replied, recognizing the sound of Tres' 30 cals.

Leona materialized next to them. "Are you two all right?"

"Yes, considering." The entire church flashed green. A woman screamed. Something crashed into the next row of pews, breaking them to pieces. Angelo hovered overhead, grinning with satisfaction. Leona growled fiercely and turned to mist. He saw the cloud of white racing up toward him from the ground and tried to sidle away, but it followed.

"What in hell is this?" The nun reformed just above and behind him, in his blind-spot, and reached for his staff as gravity took over and she fell. It wasn't until he saw a white sleeve and glove out of the corner of his eye that he realized what was happening, but it was too late. "Let go! What could you possibly do with this?" He struggled with her to keep his weapon, made difficult by her full weight hanging from it. She dematerialized and, to his horror, took his staff with her. Her smoky form darted away to the floor and took shape near her comrades.

"_Now, Tres!"_ The android stepped out from a crevasse in the wall and fired a volley of cannon rounds at Angelo. The vampire fell into the pews with a substantial _thud._

"Target neutralized," the man said flatly.

Leona dropped the staff and rushed over to the other pile of broken wood. "Lavinia! _Lavinia!_" She knelt next to her junior. "Lavinia, can you hear me?"

Tres walked over. "I've run a scan of her and she is alive, but unconscious. I'm contacting Iron Maiden right now."

"What about you two?"

"We're all right," said Hugue. He held out his hand and helped Cecilia to her feet.

"Sisters Three is currently leaving the _Iron Maiden_ and will be here momentarily, along with Know Faith and Professor."

"The ship was airborne already?" asked Leona.

"Affirmative. Sister Kate contacted me while you and Lavinia were on your way to rendezvous with me. I suggested the ship be on standby." They turned when quick footsteps on marble floors echoed in the now quiet church. Sister Alma Esperanza de la Crillovada arrived with Fathers Vaclav Havel and William Walter Wordsworth on her heels. She wore a cape over her habit which fluttered behind her as she walked. She saw Leona hunched over in the rubble and dashed over.

"Good Lord!" she exclaimed. She opened the front of the young woman's habit and, with Leona's help, carefully turned her so that she could open the corset. She cleared away some of the debris with her foot, knelt closer, and charged her hands with her healing energy. She started with the broken ribs and punctured lung. Bones came together with muffled cracks. Tissue reformed. She channeled all of the excess blood into the windpipe and levitated it out of her mouth, flinging it among the rubble. She moved onto the internal organs and did the same. Vaclav and William looked on gravely.

"My word," the latter murmured. "What went on here?"

"We were following a group of Methuselah into this church," Cecilia replied. "They were plotting with others of their kind to slaughter all of the clergymen here."

"They met just as the others were arriving for the second Nocturn service," added Hugue. "They acted as though they didn't know we were here, but…."

"They wanted the Abbott?" asked Vaclav. "Where is he?"

"Dead."

"By God!" both senior priests exclaimed, crossing themselves.

"Quite."

Lavinia suddenly began to cough and hack and convulsed, as if her soul had slammed back into her body, shocking her back into consciousness. She got her breath back and settled. Her breathing calmed. Alma removed her corset altogether and closet her habit top. "Father Tres, if you would carry her to the ship? I have a bed waiting for her."

"Affirmative." He scooped her up and walked out of the church. That she was all but dead weight meant nothing to him.

"And the rest of you, do you need healing?"

"It can wait, Alma," William replied. "We must return to Her Eminence. She is expecting us."

"What about the patrols?" Hugue asked.

"She's called them back, too. The Inquisition was all too happy to take over. Come."


	6. Five

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters seen in the original Trinity Blood television series. The plot of this fan-fiction and any character other than those mentioned above, however, do belong to me._

Corvo Nero, Colombo Bianco

Five

"Thank you for your report on the incident at Santa Maria sopra Minerva, Leona," said Caterina, "and for your two reports, Hugue."

"Of, course, Your Eminence," they said.

"So," said William, "what are we to make of this?"

"I know that this 'Maestro' and Angelo were _not_ connected," replied Sister Othelia Sha. She had been on a mission in the French Kingdom near the Vatican border, and had been put in charge of recon within Roma with another nun. "I've exhausted every lead I could find, and by all accounts they were two separate groups with the same sentiment. Those involved at Santa Maria were clearly better funded."

"How so?" asked the Cardinal.

"When I went through their records-crude though they were-I found notes about the weapons they took in and sent out. They took care to deal in small amounts so port police wouldn't be suspicious, Your Eminence, and some of their members had already infiltrated the port police to help ferry the weapons."

"They've since been apprehended, I trust?"

"They have, Your Eminence."

"Do you have any idea who the supplier is?"

"No, Your Eminence," replied Othelia's partner, Sister Edyth Shölter. "I contacted some of our Agents on the Continent and gave them names, but they eventually led to dead ends. The closest I got was finding a warehouse they used as a distribution center, but all occupants had been slaughtered before my arrival."

"'Sounds to me that we have been observed without our knowledge," said Leona, "and any potential double-crossers were eliminated."

"So what do we do?" asked Hugue.

Vaclav left his station next to Caterina's desk and paced around the room, his heavy tread effectively silencing their muttering. "Perhaps this is far-fetched, but I have the feeling all of this is part of something bigger."

"What, you mean against the whole Vatican territory?" asked Othelia. "That will always be, given our post-Armageddon world, and given we _live_ in the heart of Vatican lands, I'd be more surprised if we weren't targeted. I hardly think small uprisings in the city have to do with a bid to take over the world."

"It isn't just the Vatican," said the bearded priest. "I think this is against humankind at large."

"What are you getting at?"

He sighed. "Her Eminence placed William and I in charge of plotting all of the uprisings, and within the last year or so, I discovered an unsettling pattern not _just_ in His Holiness' lands, but on the Continent, as well." He went over to a unit of wall-mounted cubbyholes, full of rolled maps, and picked one out. A large table stood off to one side of the Cardinal's office, just near her desk, and he unrolled the map so the others could see what he was talking about. "While going through our records, I noticed that events were not only connected to Papal lands, but to other uprisings in other kingdoms, and they quickly formed a line that cut through Europa."

William pulled a slip of paper from his pocket. "Half a year ago, there was a major uprising in Pristina, a city in the Macedonian Dukedom, during which the Duke was attacked and all of his nobles residing within the city were slaughtered; within our own lands, in the province of Dalmatia, a rebellion in Jesenice, followed by another in Utinum; Lucca, within the peninsula; Castra Taurinorum in the north; Tricassae in the Kingdom of France; Verodunum; Beda in the Germanic Kingdom (this is more recent)-"

"William, just what on _earth_ are you saying?" Leona drawled. "All you're doing is throwing out names of cities."

"The data is insufficient," added Tres. "Input again."

"I was getting to it!" the priest insisted.

"What William means," said Vaclav, "is all of these places and their suburbs have experienced Methuselah uprisings, after shifting numbers of immigrants going to and from the Empire. According to their own records, all of these places were branches of one main migration path where most Methuselah settled, and Roma is one of them. We think all of these uprisings are connected."

"That _is_ a bit far-fetched," said Othelia. "What other evidence have you to support this? What I see is mere circumstance."

"We've heard rumblings from our collaborators in the cities I mentioned, and they also told me of other possible plans in other parts of the French Kingdom and the Hispanic Kingdom, Aurelianum, Tolosa, and Aeminium among them."

"That doesn't explain much," said Leona. "Do you mean to say that one organization has control of all of this?"

"I can think of one," said William.

"What? How can you say that? We _all_ know the Orden is gone!"

"We've been foolish enough to think that way before, haven't we? And look what's happened."

"We also know what happened in the skies over Roma six years ago, William! That man is dead!"

"Then why isn't his brother-"

"I didn't say it was a happy ending! He very well could have died with him!"

"What?" Edyth gasped.

"I _think_ we've lost focus," Vaclav said, stepping between the two Agents. "The point is, something powerful is at work, and it _could_ be the Orden-"

"How can that be when their leader is gone?" asked Othelia.

"If Her Eminence died, do you honestly think the AX would dissolve completely? Do you think she would let her death end all of our hard work? And we _know_ the Inquisition would continue to function if His Eminence were killed." The room became deathly silent. "We would still have our orders, and so would the officers in the Orden. Not only that, but they have their civilian collaborators, as do we. They could still function."

"But why now of all times? I don't see how all of these migrations would help them, sentiment or _no_ sentiment."

"They act when they choose."

"What of it?" asked Hugue. "How in heaven's name are we to stop it? Are we to go traipsing around Europa looking for rebels? That's a waste of manpower and all but impossible since they'll just go into hiding."

"Since this involves Methuselah," Caterina mused, "the Empire could get involved and side with her people, and want to intervene because she would think her children were being abused. We, His Holiness' protectors and keepers of the Faith, have been dealing with attacks on our soil, as well as on soil that follows our teaching, and thus we would have to intervene on their behalf. The royal families of Hispania, Gaul, and Germanicus are linked by blood, and all three have close political ties to Albion, leading Albion to jump into the fray, as well."

"It would create a schism," said Othelia.

"Which _reeks_ of the Orden," added Leona.

"Of course this is conjecture, so we cannot make any final decisions as of yet." She looked up sharply. "I will have to speak with the Queen and the Empress about this. Sister Kate?"

"Yes, Your Eminence?" the hologram piped up.

"Send an urgent request to Albion and the Empire."

"Right away, Your Eminence." Her image flickered before dissipating.

"Go off to your quarters and rest, my Agents. I want to consult with Cardinal De Medici before this meeting. We'll decide what to do then."

"Yes, Your Eminence," they said.

* * *

Afterward Caterina found her half-brother and convinced him to join her in her office, telling him everything she and her Agents had discussed, both Cardinals made their way to the war room for a holographic conference with the leaders of the Albion Kingdom and the New Human Empire.

"We're almost done finalizing the connection with the Queen and the Empress, Your Eminence," Kate said when her superiors walked in. She hovered next to the technicians typing away on the console. "If you and His Eminence would step over to the projection area we will scan your forms into the machine."

The siblings walked down the short flight of marble steps to an open amphitheater-like area. Above them hung a scanner, which analyzed their forms with a green laser beam and stored the information in the computer, and from there the images would be sent to Albion and the Empire, where their computers would transform them into real-time holographic images. Before them were several pairs of projection tablets, one part mounted in the ceiling and another in the floor. The air between the tablets began to glimmer with pale green light, and from the light emerged fuzzy representations of the monarchs. "The connection is in its final stages, Your Eminence. Your image is being sent to their computers right now."

"Thank you, Kate," said Caterina. The light slowly continued to solidify.

"The speaker system is running at full capacity. Go ahead, You Eminence."

"Thank you. Your Highnesses, I greatly appreciate your quick response to my message." She curtsied to the glowing holograms of the reigning monarchs of the Kingdom of Albion and the New Human Empire. On her left, seated in a Neo-Baroque chair and wearing a modest satin gown was Queen Esther, formerly Esther Blanchett of the AX. Her former Agent had not lost her youthful appearance, even after six years of being on the throne, but she had fully matured over the years, and the girlish appeal she had had back then bloomed into the enticing beauty of a grown woman. The sapphire eyes had hardened with maturity, yet they still retained their sparkle, and her red, unruly hair had grown longer and more opulent through constant care.

"It is good to see you, Lady Caterina," the Queen replied. "When was it that I last spoke with you directly like this?"

Even her manner of speech had matured. "I believe it was a year ago, Your Highness." On her right, also seated in an ornate chair, was the demure, veiled form of Empress Augusta Vradica, ruler of the Methuselah in the east. "I am glad you could join us, as well, Your Highness."

"Thank you, Cardinal Sforza," the woman replied in her smooth voice. "And may I say it is an honor to also speak with you, Cardinal De Medici."

Francesco bowed with a gloved hand over his heart. "Thank you, Your Highness," he replied tightly. He wasn't exactly accustomed to conversing with Methuselah—not that he minded—leaving that duty to his half-sister.

"I will not drag this out any longer, Your Highnesses," the other Cardinal said. "I asked for an audience because the problems here in Roma have much to do with anti-human sentiment, in compliance with His Holiness' plan for cooperation. I hoped that your input could shed some light on the situation."

"We are prepared to do anything to help you, Your Eminence," said the Empress.

"Have you been under attack?" the Queen asked.

"We have," said Caterina. "For the past two months or so, reports of rogue Methuselah began to surface. The information was scattered, at best, and did not amount to more than cases of harassment and harsh words aimed at humans and Methuselah alike, which the Department of Inquisition under Cardinal De Medici's direction saw to. But, more recently, the crimes began to escalate in both violence and scale, from smoke-bombs to flash-grenades to shrapnel grenades, affecting larger and larger groups of citizens. And now neutral Methuselah have become victims, as well. Both the Cardinal's and my own officers have been on high alert during this time and have regularly patrolled the city. What they have discovered has not set us at ease."

"What has happened?" the monarchs asked.

"One of the first major incidents involved my Agents and a group of radicals following someone known as, 'The Maestro.' He planned to attack the Vatican directly and was waiting for a contact who was experienced with explosives to join him when the AX intercepted. They fought with the Methuselah directly and managed to kill all seven pursuers when the fight spread into the streets. The rest of the rebel group, as well as the contact, were later caught by the Cardinal's officers."

"What information did they give?" asked the Empress.

"They gave us none. They committed suicide by slitting their pulse points and stabbing themselves with silver daggers. All we have on this case is the information my Agents gathered: that an attack on the Vatican during the third Nocturn service would make us an easy target because of the early hour."

"And their reason to strike the Vatican was due to their hatred of Terrans?"

"Yes, Your Highness, that, and to succeed where, quote, 'Those fools in Albion did not.'"

"You speak of Vanessa Walsh, do you not?" the Queen asked quietly.

"I do. Two weeks after that, one month ago, two of my Agents observed another rebel leader named Angelo acquiring new weapons, including his own personal plasma staff, UV-proof cloaks for daytime attacks, and rifles. They discovered that several of his followers has infiltrated the clergy of Santa Maria sopra Minerva to attack the Abbott and priests there, which they succeeded in doing, and nearly killed my Agents as well."

"Since that incident," added Francesco, "my officers have thwarted five other plots."

"You have certainly had your hands full, Eminences," said the Empress, "but I must ask what you need from us."

"I have discussed the matter with Cardinal Sforza, and in light of the fact that we have strung together a series of Methuselah rebellions within the Continent, we realize stopping any other uprisings from occurring is too great an undertaking for our forces alone."

"The Ax Agents I have in the field, as well as our collaborators, have sent us information about all of these uprisings," said his sister, "and we have linked Methuselah immigrants moving from nation to nation not only to the attacks here, but to others elsewhere, going back at _least_ two years. By plotting the locations of the incident reports, we have tracked them from Testerep to Castellum apud Confluentes, Durocortōrum, Tolosa, and ultimately to Roma."

"We have also traced a path from Durocortōrum to the rest of Gaul and into Hispania and Lusitania, and through Germanicus and Bohemia. And we are receiving of rising discontent, so our ultimate goal is to have aid in sending Vatican forces to these and other cities to foil the rebels' plans before they can act."

"As I said, I am willing to help you in any capacity, as is the Queen, but how are we to do that?" asked the Empress.

"I know that the Kingdom of Albion has direct ties to provinces in Gaul and Hispania, and the same can be said of the New Human Empire in Germanicus, Bohemia, and in other eastern territories. We propose that the AX and Inquisition follow the path that leads to the Vatican, while Albion and the Empire do the same in regards to their lands. Not only that, but I wonder if Your Highnesses have received your own information concerning this matter."

"In the first place, if you would be so kind as to share what information you have for the east, I will certainly send my officers out to deal with it."

"And I'll be happy to help in Gaul and Hispania," said the Queen.

"My Agent in charge of this will have the reports to you as soon as possible." From the corner of her eye, she saw Kate nod.

"As for information of our own," the Empress went on, "there has always been radical elements within my lands." She paused. "My power is vast and ultimate, but there are things even I as a ruler cannot accomplish. Terrans within my rule are still ostracized despite laws that demand equal treatment. It is entirely possible that radicals could have left imperial territories and taken to the Continent, claiming they act for the good of our race." Veil or no veil, the hologram glared at Francesco. "We are not unlike Terrans in _that_ regard."

"Perhaps, Your Highness," Caterina said as her brother seethed, "but to my knowledge, all radicals from your lands aching for revenge have been arrested."

"Ah, but the sentiment remains within the community, does it not? It only takes a small idea to sway thousands. Anger can grow and spread, slowly at times, and lead to a situation such as this. What say you, Queen of Albion?"

"Well," replied the Queen, "I...believe my actions are the cause of this."

_"What?"_ the others gasped.

She sighed. "When I took the throne six years ago, one of the first hurdles before me was the issue of the Ghetto. Tensions within the Court flared over it, as the truce my grandmother had managed to enforce vanished the moment I ascended. Some wanted to get rid of the system and have the Methuselah made into official citizens, to try and quell any of the radicals' anger. Others wanted to keep the system and _not_ have them made citizens, and even though Vanessa Walsh had taken more moderate views, her followers had not and were more incensed by her 'treachery,' which was all the evidence those courtiers needed to prove their case. Eventually their anger spread into my kingdom, much in the same way as you've theorized. Two years into my reign, they attacks one of my nobles' homes, and I had had enough of it, so I decided to give them a choice."

"And the choice was...?" asked the Empress.

"I gave the Methuselah the option to leave and return to the Empire, so they would not have to live here where they felt oppressed any longer, and I guaranteed their separation as inhabitants of the Ghetto. The radicals left, which I fully expected, but to my surprise most of the population remained here-even members of their own clans stayed because they were not as hot-blooded as they."

"Really?" asked Caterina.

"Yes. It was not long ago that one of the radicals' sons petitioned to have his clan name changed so he would not be associated with his father, as a matter of fact. Those who did remain wanted changes, of course, to which I consented, but they were otherwise happy to live here and work in the factories." She sighed again. "Tell me, do those first reports include Methuselah migrating _east_, Your Eminence? In other words, migrants from Londinium moving to Testerep and such?"

"Ah, well, yes, Your Highness."

She nodded. "They were the radicals I released, and I was not surprised when they went to Dutch lands, as tolerable as they are there. They probably picked up and left off some among them as they moved along. Around that time we heard rumors about discrimination aimed at them, because they had been with us for so long, but nothing was confirmed by our own collaborators, nor by the Vatican or the Empire, so we dismissed it."

"If I may ask," Francesco said, "and forgive me for interrupting, Your Highness, how could they be discriminated? Few knew of the Ghetto, even among the political leaders of the world."

"But if they shared their past with others among our kind," replied the Empress, "they would have no doubt explained that they had been working for Terrans."

"Surely, they would sympathize?"

"Untrue, Cardinal. Working _with_ Terrans is one thing, but working _for_ them is quite another, and in a Ghetto, no less. As I said, even I cannot eliminate all ill will among my children. Some would find the migrants' situation inexcusable."

"If that's the case," said Caterina, "then in theory they _could_ have made their way to your lands, found no sanctuary there, and set their minds on revenge."

"That is correct, Cardinal."

"And we have dealt with discrimination cases of our own, as I recall."

"But you are telling us that you think the rebels are striking places where they tried to settle all at once? How could they fund such a thing?" asked Francesco.

The Queen grew pale, clearly evident even though she was only a hologram. "Could it be that this is large than we realize?"

"How do you mean?" asked the Empress.

"Perhaps they are receiving outside aid from _another_ group! Perhaps-"

"The Orden," the Cardinals said.

"I do not believe it!" exclaimed the Empress. "The Orden's top leaders are either dead or missing! Without Cain Nightroad and his officers to scheme and manipulate, how do they function? _None_ are as strong as that man, not even Von Kämpher or Lohengrin!"

"We cannot eliminate the possibility, Your Highness," said Caterina. "We have all been foolish enough to underestimate the Orden's endurance before."

"I do not think it necessary to get ourselves worked up for no reason!"

"It cannot be helped, Your Highness. It is unfortunate, but we must treat every threat like this as a potential strike from them."

"Forgive me, Your Eminence, but I thought my decision would be for the better, and in accordance with His Holiness' wishes," said the Queen.

"Do not trouble yourself, Your Highness. No one could have foreseen this, and I believe His Holiness would feel the same."

"Regardless, I think we should adjourn for now," said the Empress. "We all have much to do."

"Well said, Your Highness," said Francesco. "I must go now and inform my officers." He bowed. "Good day, Queen Esther and Empress Augusta. May God watch over you and your kingdoms."

"Good day to you, Cardinal," they said. Caterina's brother left the amphitheater and then the war room altogether.

"I will take my leave, as well, Your Eminence and Empress," the Queen said with a bow of her head. Her image flickered before completely depixelating.

"Is there a way I might have a private word with you, Your Eminence?" the Empress asked.

"Of course, Your Highness." She nodded to Kate, who promptly disappeared, and to the technicians who followed Francesco's path out of the room. "What is it?"

The Empress removed the heavy veil that hung from her headdress in front of her face. Rather than the mature, smooth-voiced female she made herself out to be, the mighty Augusta Vradica of the New Human Empire appeared as a young woman, not unlike Esther in her AX days. And, she had been told six years ago, she was in truth Seth Nightroad, younger sister of Cain Nightroad of the Rosenkreuz Orden, a powerful Crusnik in her own right. "It's about Esther's theory about the Orden."

"You made such an impassioned speech about it," replied the Cardinal. "Do you think them active after all?"

"I don't like to think that, but I do. My brother Cain had enough followers to do his bidding even if he was killed."

"We thought as much. Do you think..._he_ is alive?"

"Yes, both him _and_ Abel. There was an explosion of energy three years ago in the Desolate Area, and as massive as it was, I do not believe it was enough to kill either of my brothers," she replied sadly. "I cannot say the same for Ion Fortuna, though; Mirka still awaits the arrival of his _remains_, not of him."

"We still mourn his loss, my senior Agents and I. I believe he had every intention of returning to us. Perhaps it is why he begged me not to speak of his plan to Esther six years ago." That was after he had told her of his complete past, and of the Empress' true identity.

"I cannot bring myself to hope for Abel's safe return. My brothers have equal power, but Cain has confidence and _insanity_ to steel his resolve. Abel carries old regrets with him-he is more likely to waver."

"I don't agree, but...I suppose you know them better than I."

"I don't know how many miracles either of them have left."

"The Lord does not set limits on the faithful."

"Perhaps in your lexicon, Cardinal, full of optimism in the face of opposition, which I think leads to heartache as often as it leads to joy." Her image depixelated in a shower of green light.


	7. Sechs

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters seen in the original Trinity Blood television series. The plot of this fan-fiction and any character other than those mentioned above, however, do belong to me._

Corvo Nero, Colombo Bianco

Sechs

"What is it you want us to see, Sister Alma?" Lavinia asked, trying to keep up with the healer pulling her along by the wrist.

"Now that your wounds have healed the other nuns and I though you and Cecilia should join us in the bathing pool. Besides, you've both proven your worth-no need to separate yourselves from us."

"Are you sure?" asked Cecilia; she tried to keep up while ensuring her shift didn't move out of place and expose something.

"Of _course_ we're sure! Here we are."

The bathhouse stood between the men's and women's dormitories within the Vatican, in the middle of the Old Gardens, some few hundred meters from the Pope's palace, the mansions of the top Cardinals, and the Department of Inquisition's headquarters. (Nearby were the Inquisitors' quarters, guarding the old heliport and the train station.) Stone paths from all of the dormitories that led to the building were lined with beautiful flowers and tall hedges, one set leading to the priests' half and the other to the nuns' half.

Once inside, you could either turn right from the entrance or go to the public showers, or you could go to the left to the bathing pool. The outer-most walls were solid, forming the building itself, while the inner walls, after a short distance, became a row of tall columns that helped to support the roof, forming corridors. In the middle of the pool room, set a few steps from the main level, was the chest-deep bathing pool, heated by well-maintained boilers and pipes in the basement. The showers were separated by a half-wall on the right, and a full floor-to-ceiling sculpted barrier that separated the priests from the nuns (although-not that anyone would tell-there were still ways for weary officers to peek). The two rookie nuns had just left the convent after the Compline service and a day of training. They'd intended to take quick showers and return to the dormitory early, but the healer had spotted them and dragged them off down the long, wide corridor.

Tonight, most of the nuns from the AX, the Inquisition, and regular nuns who served in the chapels within the City had gathered after the night service. Alma pulled the two rookies right along the edge of the pool, past Paula and her subordinates, the Abbess Sister Mary Carmel, and over to the back corner near the wall where Leona, Othelia, and Edyth waited, along with recently-promoted Agents Isis Kalapreus and Solania Terza, laughing in the steaming water.

"So _that's_ where you rushed off to, Alma," said Leona, seeing the two rookies behind her.

"When I saw them walk into the building behind us, I couldn't resist." She pulled a length of ribbon from the pocket of her shift and braided her long, dark hair, so long it reached her waist when she draped it over her shoulder. "Well, don't hesitate, girls. Go on in." The rookies looked at each other; it was Lavinia who undressed and stepped into the pool first.

"It's good that you could join us," said Edyth, "and I'm glad you're well, Lavinia."

"Thank you, Sister Edyth."

"Please, use my given name. You're both full members, after all, not trainees."

"Well, you can't blame the girl," said Othelia. "Neither of them have had much contact with us." Which was true? They had been sent on a mission not twenty-four hours after arriving at the Vatican, and had been on regular patrol shifts ever since the incident at Santa Maria (if they weren't too injured, that is).

"You're right, but a soak in a hot bath will fix that. Have you met Isis and Solania before?"

"Yes," said Lavinia, "they were our examiners."

"Oh, good, so you aren't strangers," said Alma, lowering herself into the water. "They have just achieved senior status, so they can go on missions on their own and not be stuck with fuddy-duddy seniors like us."

"Oh, it wasn't _so_ bad," Isis chuckled.

"Anyway, we can all have the chance to bond now."

"With any luck," said Leona.

"Come, come!" Alma protested. "Have _some_ faith! Lavinia is from Albion, too!"

"Really?" she asked. "Where from?"

"My family is from Croidone in Londinium. We owned a merchant company there. I was stationed in the Croidone Parish Church, and then I was transferred to Westminster Abbey before coming here."

"Ah, how I wanted to be stationed there," Leona said wistfully, "but my time at Carlisle Cathedral in Luguvalium will always be with me."

Like most within the Vatican, especially within the elite units like the AX, the Inquisition, and even the Swiss Guard, the clergy were from all nations within the Continent and even Africa.

Leona hailed from Albion, like Lavinia and William, of humble middle-class origins. She was tall and shapely, and was much friendlier than she had appeared to be when Lavinia and Cecilia first met her. Her hair was beautiful, the color of deep mahogany wood, and she kept it long and unbound under a longer-than-standard-issue white veil.

Othelia had the same icy-grey eyes as Cecilia, and even had similar features, but her skin was a much deeper shade of bronze, like that of someone who lived in Carthago. Her hair was much rougher than Cecilia's, as well, without the big waves and shine. Slim and master of ancient fighting techniques, Dragon Lady, with her famed fighting staff, rivaled Paula in strength.

Alma looked to be a native of Hispania or Lusitania, with hazel eyes and an even olive complexion, and hair so brown it appeared black in certain light. She was not only the AX's healer, but that very power could be used in the reverse. Sisters Three could spin, cut, and destroy the thread of life whenever she chose, in mere seconds.

Edyth was from the heart of Germanicus. Her hair was light brown with a hint of red, though not enough to be called auburn, and her eyes were bright blue. With her enhanced eyesight she could kill any Methuselah with superb precision, although she could not compete with Tres. Artemis could kill swiftly and silently with her silver arrows.

"It must have been quite a shock to be thrown into the field on your first day here," Othelia said to change topics.

"Well, it was, a little," replied Cecilia. "We didn't think Her Eminence would consider us for the task so soon."

"But we quickly realized why we were needed," added Lavinia.

"Yes, being in battle _would_ be enlightening."

"Perhaps, but I was talking about the memorial plaque in the atrium of the dormitory, with the pictures of fallen Agents."

"I was struck by one nun, Noelle Bör," said Cecilia. The atmosphere suddenly became dark. The other nuns looked like they were on the verge of tears, especially Othelia. "Have I said something wrong?"

"It's all right, dear," said Leona. "You didn't know-"

"Now, now, what's all this?" a man said. Lavinia and Cecilia shrieked and ducked down in the pool until water lapped at their noses. A sponge hit the wall behind them in a fleshy-sounding explosion of water. "Ow ow ow ow! Only you would find a way to make a sponge hurt, Othelia!" The rookies cracked an eye open and saw a young man half-phased through the stone divider. He was covered in soapy water and rubbing his nose.

"My, my, look who it is," Leona said, oddly making no real attempt to take cover. "We haven't seen _you_ for a while, Nikolai."

He brushed deep blonde hair from his eyes. "I just got back today and wanted to meet the new AX Agents."

"You didn't have to spy on us!" Cecilia cried.

"Have you no shame?" added Lavinia.

"You see, you've scared them."

Isis put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Lavinia, he doesn't mean any harm. He's just lacking tact."

"Besides," said the man, "we in the Vatican are no different from those in the outside. How could we be when our Cardinals and His Holiness are related by blood, and not by their maternal side, either. A former Pope comes to mind-"

"How can you make such an accusation?" Lavinia gasped.

"Surely, you knew that?"

"Never mind that, you," said Leona. "Girls, this is Brother Nikolai Sukofsky, a sergeant in the Department of Inquisition with His Eminence."

The man's transparent form bowed a little. "Ladies of the AX, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Let's restrict it to salutations this time, shall we?" said Alma. "We don't need to have it transcend into real life."

"Oh, you make it seem as though the woman didn't enjoy-"

"Now, now, let's not frighten them more with your stories," added Leona.

Lavinia and Cecilia were not so much frightened as they were shocked. How could the Inquisition and AX officers get along? Cardinal Sforza could hardly stand to be with Cardinal De Medici as it was so how could their most loyal followers...?

"So where's your partner in crime?" Leona asked. "Or, should I say, your band of merry troublemakers?"

"Oh, they're over here with me," said Nikolai. "Well, the rest of me, anyway. But, it's good that I found you. Did Sister Kate give you the news?"

"What news?" asked Edyth.

"His Holiness and the Cardinals have been in meetings all day to figure out what to do about the uprisings. Some of the boys in the AX didn't know all of us had to go to a briefing in the morning, so I wondered if you knew."

"No, we didn't. What time?"

"Right after the Prime service."

"Right. Thank you for that, Nikolai-"

"Brother Sukofsky, just what in His Eminence's name are you doing?" Paula bellowed, marching over to the wall in all her nakedness in a rage. "Oh, hello, Ma'am," he said. "I was just conversing with-"

"Do you remember that we pride ourselves on maintaining His Eminence's honor? How does _this_ qualify?" Never mind the fact she wore no shift to cover herself. Then again, Lavinia and Cecilia doubted she was one to really worry about such things as modesty, and they doubted more that anyone would say anything about it to her.

"It doesn't, Ma'am. My apologies." He bowed meekly and phased back through the wall to the priests' side of the building.

"I am sorry my subordinate behaved so improperly," Paula said to the Agents. "Rest assured that this shall not go unnoted."

"It's all right, Sister Paula," said Leona. "'No harm done."

"Nevertheless, he shall be reprimanded. Good night." The Lady of Death stalked away.

A few moments later, Nikolai appeared again, closer to the water so he wouldn't have to shout and draw attention to himself. "Whew!"

Leona chuckled. "Well, Isis was right about your lack of tact."

"Perhaps, but you have yet to hold it against me." He grinned charmingly at her before disappearing.

The older women chuckled and nudged Leona knowingly, and knowing what power the woman held, Lavinia had to wonder just how helpful that power could be once the Vatican grew still at night.


	8. Seven

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters seen in the original Trinity Blood television series. The plot of this fan-fiction and any character other than those mentioned above, however, do belong to me._

Corvo Nero, Colombo Bianco

Seven

Cardinal Caterina Sforza got out of the armored car at 16:00 on the dot. She wanted to be there to send her Agents off and to oversee the loading operation herself so she could be sure every single weapon was accounted for. From the street, she could see her Agents standing together on the far-off platform of Roma's main railway station, the nuns' white habits standing out against the darkness of an overcast night. Inquisition officers stood nearby in full armor, keeping a watchful eye on the late-night commuters in the station. Since her meeting this afternoon, she hand her brother had discussed the situation and decided to bolster up the number of Inquisitors going with the AX Agents on the trip. They would leave one or two officers behind at each place as they went, as a security measure, so that the rest could continue on without concern.

"It's the only way the other nations will give their assent to this," her brother had said.

_But of course._ The leader of the other nations had been the reason this mission was so delayed in the first place! After Caterina had spoken to the Queen of Albion and the New Human Empress, nearly two months ago, and she and her brother had delivered their proposal to the rest of the College and His Holiness. The Vatican agreed to having their Agents follow leads as they came and wiping out the rebels before they could do to other cities what had been done to Roma (and what had continued since then). But, the Queen and the Empress had not had as easy a time convincing their own allies of the plan. The smaller nations—Hispania, the Kingdom of the Franks, the Germanics Kingdom, to name a few—feared that, if word were to get out that the Vatican and the other two most powerful forces were going hunting for leads, which was not an impossibility, then the rebels might just leave false leads and strike somewhere else, and cause even _more_ damage than they probably intended just to spite the humans. What would happen then, they had wondered. Worries and fears had delayed the mission for an entire month, and just when it looked like the smaller territories were _finally_ going to give their assent...

The energy surge in the Desolate Area in the east got in their way again.

So, naturally, a huge explosion in a total wasteland took precedence over rebels and nation-hopping. Investigators had immediately been sent to the blast site, and had spent an entire week combing through a fresh pile of rubble and a crater the diameter of the plaza in front of St. Peter's Basilica and as deep and a large lake. Some had speculated that the rebels had done exactly what they said they would do: move to another location and cause a massive amount of damage to distract the humans. Others had said it was probably an old factory of some kind from pre-Armageddon breaking down—it had happened before, so there was no reason to go all to pieces, they had said. Either way, it had had to be investigated.

They had found freshly-charred remains of a woman, later identified by the Vatican scientists as Elysia Verräter, protégé of Isaak Fernand von Kampfer, of the Rosenkreuz Orden, and a pair of battered, partially-melted milk-bottle spectacles among the rubble. To investigators from the Empire and Albion, they meant nothing, but to the agents from the Vatican it meant it could have been one of _their_ battles. Perhaps Isaak and Elysia had been with their leader when the battle commenced, and the woman had been the only one to remain recognizable after the smoke cleared. No sign of Isaak had been found, nor of anyone else. Perhaps they had finally killed each other. If so, then the hope that Abel Nightroad would return to his friends had died along with him and his brother.

Edyth had spent much of her time in bed, under close watch, as she had had a soft spot for the silver-haired priest, perhaps more so than the rest of her comrades. She would not be going on the mission—the Papal physician and Alma both would not hear of it—and to make up for her loss, Father Leon Garcia de Asturias had been released from prison and given the details. And with the discovery and whispers of the Orden about, the mission to look for rebels once again ground to a halt. The other nations were even more nervous than they had been before, and even members of Albion and the Empire were hesitant now. It had taken another month to convince them to go ahead with the plan, on the condition that officers were to be left at each city as a warning system—the moment they got wind of another attack, they would contact their comrades and tell them what they knew. A battalion of knights from Albion were assigned to the Queen's agents, and minor nobles from the Empire were attached to the Empress'. For the Vatican, it was an extra detachment of Inquisitors, not that Petro minded.

Caterina was not surprised that her brother had sent more of his Inquisitors than he had originally planned, really; she _was_ surprised, however, that he had joined her. "Are you coming, Cardinal?"

"Of course I am," he said indignantly, getting out of the car. "I didn't join you for the sake of it."

"I'm still puzzled as to why you came at all. Your people haven't lost their touch."

"Well, of course not. They are as strong as ever, as deadly as a dagger blade."

"Then why be here?"

"It is only proper that I do so. The situation threatens to upset the balance among the three great powers. The last thing we need is a victory for vampire terrorists and another war between _them_ and us." The heavy metallic sound of footsteps on pavement let them know the additional Inquisitors were about. "And anyway, why are _you_ here? You usually don't see your Agents off, either." He left her side before she could answer and met the Inquisitors at the base of the stairs of the train station.

"Shall I wait here for you and Cardinal De Medici, Your Eminence?" the driver asked.

"No, thank you. We'll call when we're through here," she replied, still smarting from the fact her brother had been right with that last comment.

The driver bowed. "Yes, Your Eminence." He got back into the driver's seat and pulled away from the station.

Caterina passed through the gates surrounding the small train station, up the set of stairs, and into the main terminal of the train station. For security's sake, they had chosen a station outside of the City as a departure point.

The Roma Termino station had been in place for several centuries, even before Armageddon, but its current stonework from dated back nearly two hundred years. The remains of a Gothic cathedral had been reused to build the main terminal, which was strictly reserved for gleaming passenger trains from other parts of the Papal States as well as the Continent at large, numbering fourteen in all. The platforms for local trains were nearer to the door, as were the ticket windows and food kiosks, and three of the seven platforms had engines idling in them. The seven farther platforms were for international trains, with only one from Germanicus in the area. Beyond all of that, on the other side of a set of columns, were the thirty platforms reserved for freight trains, and most of them were occupied as usual. All of Caterina's Agents and the Inquisitors waited on Platform 4. From here, they would board a train bound for the station in Castra Taurinorum, and reside in the Abbey of the Basilica of Superga.

The Agents looked up expectedly as she made her way over. Most of the seniors were going, along with Cecilia, Lavinia, and a score of rookies. All wore their cloaks over their normal clothes, as summer was beginning to taper off, and the nights had grown cool. The train had yet to arrive, so they stood in silence listening to the other engines hissing in the other berths.

But they bowed when their Cardinal joined them. "Your Eminence."

"Hello, my Agents. Have you rested well for the journey?" They nodded. "Good."

"Has Cardinal De Medici changed his mind about which Inquisitors will be going with us, Your Eminence?" Vaclav asked.

"Oh, no. We decided it would be better if we added to the number of Inquisition officers."

"I see."

"Worry not, Cardinal Sforza," said the captain with them. "On the honor of His Eminence and the True Faith, we will carry out our mission to the fullest."

She smiled at him. "I do not doubt it, Brother Sukofsky."

Beneath his standard-issue helmet, Nikolai's steel-grey eyes glimmered. "Thank you for your confidence, Your Eminence."

Alma looked at her watch, noted the time, and tapped Lavinia's arm. "Release your power, dear."

"What's going on?" both Cardinals asked nervously. They were answered by the whistle of a faraway passenger train just as one of the other local trains prepared to leave, the engine hissing to life. Steam exploded from the valves in the undercarriage. More steam belched from the stubby funnel in a rush. The bell mounted on the boiler rang. Its own deep-noted whistle blared in short bursts. Conductors and patrons milled around, trying to make it before the incoming train drew closer and this one pulled out. Then the other engine ground to a halt in Platform 6, and the other train immediately began to back out. And so began the deafening noise again.

"Lavinia asked me to let her know when the trains came and went so she could release her power. We don't want her ears damaged."

"But why where you using it?" asked Caterina.

"I was listening for assassins, Your Eminence," the nun replied.

"That was good thinking," said Francesco.

"Thank you, Your Eminence."

"That was the 16:06 bound for Interamna, and the one that just arrived was from Mutina. A train from Fovea should arrive at 16:30, and another from Abellinum at 16:35," said Nikolai.

"And the train to Castra Taurinorum arrives afterward, yes?" asked Caterina.

"Yes, Your Eminence."

The next two trains appeared in the yard as scheduled, but Lavinia had already announced their approach by that point. The Minister of Transportation had arranged for the agents to board the train from Castra Taurinorum on the return trip. The engines from that entire region were relatively light in weight, compared to some of the other types, and to the junior nun did not sound quite as belabored as the others. But that was to be expected—there was no point in risking lives building mountain railway lines for massive engines. Their whistles, too, were a lovely mid-range tone, not ear-shattering, not chest-rattling, so it was easy for her to distinguish their train from the others around. The other priests and nuns said nothing as the forest-green engine pulled into Platform 4, its matching coaches alive with shuffling passengers and marked "Castra Taurinorum-Roma" in gold-leaf lettering on the sides.

Normally, people waiting to get on the train would rush on as soon as the others alighted, but it would be different tonight. The conductor of the train ran over to the Cardinals and bowed. "Your Eminences, greetings. How fare thee?" (They replied in kind.) "We added two coaches to the train as your Minister asked, but we will need to add another engine here so we have the power to make it to the town—that will only take a few more minutes, as we passed a spare one in the sidings as we pulled in. I've also checked the train at each stop myself as instructed, and it is quite safe."

"If it's all the same to you, Sir, we'll be the judge of that," Francesco snapped. Nikolai and his aide flanked their superior as he marched to the two designated coaches and leapt inside. Anyone who had been grumbling about the delay and having to stay on the platform inhaling steam quieted when they saw His Eminence Cardinal De Medici and his Inquisitors milling around the train. Some looked at the undercarriages of the engines and coaches with flashlights, a pair inspected the cabs of the engines up close, and the rest searched inside the coaches. At one point, Nikolai and several of his subordinates gathered in one of them, and the Agents outside froze. Nikolai came out—well, phased through it—and held a suitcase for Francesco to see as the Cardinal spoke to his sister, no longer jovial and all business.

"_This_ was found aboard," he said, "and it could easily have been a bomb meant for us." (He directed that part to the conductor, who blanched at the thought in the meantime.)

"Now, now, Brother, we don't have to jump to conclusions," said Caterina.

"I am merely being cautious, Your Eminence," he said, "upon Cardinal De Medici's direction." He put the suitcase down gently. "I believe one of your Agents has enhanced hearing?"

"Yes, that is true."

"Might I have him try to detect anything suspicious?" Lavinia stepped forward—much to Nikolai's embarrassment and the others' amusement that he had not heard Alma speaking of her power earlier—knelt next to the suitcase, and hardened her ears. "Well?"

"I don't hear anything, but that's not conclusive." She stood up. "If they used a digital timer, there wouldn't be a sound."

"Damnation! What are we to do, Your Eminence?"

"We will have the police attend to it," said Caterina. "We haven't the time to discuss the matter."

"Is the train otherwise safe?" her brother asked.

"Yes, Your Eminence."

"It will have to do, then. Have Inquisitors stations at the doors of the coaches to check the passengers to make sure it _stays_ safe." He glared at the conductor.

"Right away, Eminence." Nikolai bowed and turned on his heel, calling for his subordinates as he walked.

"You may go now," he added to the conductor; the man all but ran away from him to the safety of the first coach.

"Well, that wasn't expected, but I still think all is well overall." He looked at his watch. "And look, we still have ten minutes to 16:50."

"That's good," his sister replied. "Well, my Agents, you all know what I expect from you, and what you must do. This mission is of the utmost importance, probably more than any you've had for a long while."

"Yes, Your Eminence," they replied gravely.

"_May He provide His strength unto thee, His servants on Earth. Go now, knowing He smiles upon thee,"_ she said in Latin.

And to that, Vaclav replied, _"And to you, Your Eminence, we pray He blesses you with His warmth. Your most noble words cast unto us are worthy of His praise."_ He bowed, and the others followed suit, and were just straightening when Lavinia gasped as though she had been jumped, reached down to her thigh-holster of daggers, and threw two into the wall above a stack of old crates. They lodged into the plaster coating on the stone just as the other leapt back in alarm.

"_What in Heaven's name are you doing, girl?"_ Francesco bellowed as his officers formed a ring around him.

She ignored the Cardinal and demanded, "All right, get out here where I can see you!" Nothing. "Don't pretend you aren't there! My business is to hear fools like you trying to sneak up on me, and I heard your boot scrape on the floor! Step out into the open!" She used her physical power to breach one of the crates with one of her larger daggers. When that had no effect she drew her pistol.

"_Get out here or eat silver!"_ Two shadowed hands rose above a crate in surrender; the Cardinals and their subordinates flinched, and the warriors took fighting stances. Several metallic clinks could be heard as several people took the safety off of their own handguns. "I want your _whole_ body, not just your hands!" She made a big show of loading the pistol so the hammer clicked loudly. "You have three seconds! One!"

A head and a set of shoulders appeared. _"Two!"_

The suspect, a man by the looks of it, rose to his full height and sidled away from the crates. He moved slowly and she tracked him with the pistol. "Well, it looks like you have half a brain after all. Now how about you step out of the shadows so my friends from the Inquisition can question you?" Behind her, Leona, Solania, Isis, and Tres fanned out to better cut off his escape along the platforms, and Hugue came up behind the man to block the entrance to the street.

Though he was surrounded by elite nuns and priests of the Vatican, in a voice so smooth and warm he said, "I'm sorry to have intruded like this, Your Eminence. You'll forgive me, I hope, but I didn't think it would be a good idea to try to return to the City."

"I didn't ask you to hold a conversation with Her Eminence, I asked you to step out of the shadows!" She glanced over her shoulder. "What shall I do with him, Your—" She froze in bewilderment. Not only were Caterina and Francesco agape, but so were all of the other Agents and Inquisitors, save for Cecilia who was as clueless as she. "Your Eminence?"

"Stand down, Huntress," said Tres. "He means us no harm."

"Father, who can you say that when he's been _sneaking_ around—"

"It _can't_ be you," Leona muttered. Caterina's knees weakened and her brother had to catch her (although he barely managed it). The man stepped out of the shadows, as Lavinia had asked, and put his hands down. He was tall and built lean, like Hugue, and had long silver hair spilling over his shoulders. He wore the black cassock and gleaming body armor of the AX priests, battered as they were, as well as the chains and rosary. His eyes were bright blue, as deep as sapphires, and showed kindness through the well-worn reserve of a warrior.

He was absolutely handsome. "What do you mean, Leona? Who else could I be?"

That was all anyone needed. Alma and Leona launched themselves at him and probably almost crushed him with the force of their hugs. He returned the gesture as best he could while they wept openly into his chest. William and Vaclav stood by Caterina, trying to remain stoic for her sake while she herself wiped a tear away. Leon stepped in and gently pried the two senior nuns off of him, though his chin quivered a little as he did so.

Cecilia went to Lavinia's side. "I know who he is."

"You do?"

"That's Abel Nightroad."

"_Really?"_

"Yes, I'm sure of it. He's not wearing spectacles or his hair pulled back, but I recognize him well enough."

"Oh, I see," she said grimly. She put the pistol back into her holster.

"Oh, Abel, it's wonderful to see you again," Alma was sniffling. "Truly, it is a miracle!"

"You make too much of this," he demurred.

"Don't be ridiculous! How can you say such a thing when we found your glasses in the Desolate Area! We thought you were dead!"

"What?" The healer held them out for him to see. He took them from her and turned them over in his hands. "These…were at the site?"

"Edyth found them," said Leona. "She's been a wreck ever since."

"Oh…." He absently looked around him. "I thought she was missing. Perhaps I should have gone back to the City after all."

"No, then she would have gone mad and thought you were a ghost," Othelia replied thinly. "It would be better if you had Her Eminence take you back and break the news to her."

"And we can have the glasses repaired for you," said Solania, who had been a rookie nun herself six years ago and had worked with him a few times.

"No, no, that's all right," he said. "I…I don't need them anymore."

"Are you sure, old boy?" asked William. "They can be as good as new and wearable long before we return, and you'll look like your old self."

"Return? Where are you going?"

"We have a mission, I'm afraid. We're off to Castra Taurinorum."

"I'll inform you at headquarters," Caterina said. "Then you can join them at Durocortōrum—"

"Why can't they just tell me on the way? It could help a long train ride go quickly."

"What?"

"I'd like to go on this mission, Your Eminence." He bowed deeply. "If it's all right with you."

"But, you just got back to Roma, Abel!" Leona exclaimed. "Why not stay here for a while and then follow us? I'm sure Kate could arrange it—"

"I am still part of the AX, am I not? It's my duty."

"Well, as you were classified missing or dead—" Vaclav began.

"I'll go as an aide, then, like Leon."

"Hey, hey, you don't want that," the swarthy native of Hispania said. "One renegade in the AX is bad enough."

"You should rest," Alma said. "Please, Abel?"

"As tempting as that is, I cannot, nor will I." He looked at Caterina. "So, may I go, Your Eminence?"

She stared at him for a moment, and then chuckled a little. "So be it, Abel. Go on now, all of you. There's only a minute left before departure."

"Ah, they won't leave as long as we're out here, Your Eminence," Leon drawled. "C'mon, Abel, you know the drill. We have to move out now."

"All right, Leon, whatever you say. I just hope I'll be able to survive with only one cassock. I mean, really…."

"That's my boy!" Leon laughed. "Let's roll out, everyone!"

Alma and Leona looped their arms through his and walked with him toward the waiting train, followed by the rest of the Agents and Inquisitors, stopping long enough for him to bow and kiss Caterina's and Francesco's gloved hands, giving his regards in Latin. Then, as he left the Cardinals behind and walked past Cecilia and Lavinia, he smiled kindly at them. They both blushed, especially Lavinia, since she had nearly shot him.

"_Last call! All travelers bound for Castra Taurinorum must board the 16:50 train now!"_ the porter called through his speaking phone.


	9. Acht

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters seen in the original Trinity Blood television series. The plot of this fan-fiction and any character other than those mentioned above, however, do belong to me._

Corvo Nero, Colombo Bianco

Acht

"So that's everything, is it?" Abel asked quietly, after Leona had finished explaining. "I feared this."

"Since you've told us that Cain is alive, at least, do you know for sure if the _Orden_ is still around, as well?" asked William.

"Oh, yes, it is, and it had been intentionally lying low until now…well, it did that anyway, but it was especially critical this time. My brother told me that when—what on earth is it? You've all gone pale."

"_Brothers?"_ asked Isis.

"You didn't know? I thought that secret had gotten out long after I left."

"We…we were told you are a Crusnik," said Alma, "but…brothers—"

"Yes."

"Good Lord!"

"I didn't know how they would do it, but _this_ I didn't expect."

"Using radicals to cover for them is an advantage the Orden is always willing to exploit," said Leon, "as well as basic policy."

"Perhaps, but on this scale? Hardly. Never before has that man had an opportunity such as this. With the connections he has he would have no trouble jumping on the chance." He absently fiddled with the spectacles. "Angry Methuselah on a continental campaign to strike at humans, all at once? He probably salivated at the thought of it."

"He has a point," said Hugue.

"Unfortunately," said Nikolai. "Now, perhaps we should start planning for Castra Taurinorum?"

"Good idea," said Vaclav. "Does anyone have a map?"

"Yes," said Tres, pulling a folded piece of parchment from his cassock pocket; he spread it on the floor of the coach compartment. Nikolai and several of the other senior agents leaned in to look at it. "The Basilica of Superga is located at the top of the hill of Superga just outside of the town. Currently we have thirty-five Agents from the AX and forty officers of the Inquisition, totaling seventy-five."

"Perhaps we could split the two department members up evenly and have the remaining Inquisitors guard the basilica?" Alma ventured.

"How so?" asked William. "One AX Agent to one Inquisitor? That would leave us with twenty pairs, which is too thin a spread for my liking."

"It would never work," added Nikolai. "We'd need to _properly_ guard the basilica."

"It could," countered Leon. "We put the twenty pairs out in the field and have the five Inquisitors in the basilica; the clergymen might be armed, so they could help there."

"But they might _not_ be," said Vaclav. "It's a huge risk."

"Perhaps we could have the Inquisitors centered on the basilica while the AX patrols further in the field," Abel said quietly.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, we have forty Inquisitors and thirty-five AX Agents; we could have…ten, no, fifteen Inquisitors at the basilica, another fifteen patrolling the area within a few blocks of the hill, and the remaining ten further into the town from there. Then those of us in the AX can overlap with their range and spread out to the other side of town."

"That seems to be the better option," William said with a sigh.

"A useful one to use for _all_ of our stops," Othelia added.

"Hear, hear."

"And one for the train, as well," said Hugue.

"How's that?" asked Leona.

"If we're going to spread out in all of the towns we're set to investigate, then we shouldn't remain concentrated here in this coach, or any one of the others. 'No sense in having half our number blown to bits because any saboteurs _know_ we're back here."

"Affirmative," Tres agreed. "With all of the agents from the Vatican situated in the cars of this train, as planned, there is a fifty-percent chance of all of us being incapacitated should there be any spies within the crowed of passengers, of which there is a likely seventy-five-percent chance."

"There are over one-hundred people on this train, including staff; it only takes one or two people to plant a bomb and tamper with it entirely, and then civilians would suffer, as well," the blond priest said.

"Hmm, good point," William mused, "but if we wait until our next scheduled stop, the risk increases. How far away is the next station, on that thought?"

"It's quite a distance," said Alma, looking at her watch. "It's 17:25 right now, and we're expected to arrive in another forty minutes to an hour."

"Damnation! That's too much time!"

"_But_ in a few minutes, this stretch will merge to one track, and we are set to wait in a siding for another train bound for Roma. We could persuade the conductor to have the other passengers leave the train for a routine inspection and shuffle of seats, I'm sure."

"That's settled, then," said Leon. He stood up from the compartment seat and stretched. "Let's go inform the young ones of the situation and find the conductor."

"I'm on it," said Hugue. He turned on his heel and stalked off down the aisle running along one side of the coach, while Tres took off the other way.

The train to Castra Taurinorum normally completed the journey with one engine and twelve coaches following, including a dining car and an observation car, all lavishly decorated with hardwood accents and plush seating. For this journey, however, the Vatican had requested that two more normal coached be added to the overall train, which required a second engine (one that had been picked up at the Roma Termino and brought up the rear). The original plan was to have a third of the Papal officers occupy one coach in the front of the train, behind the larger, main engine, another third roughly occupying a middle coach, and the last third at the end, in the car in front of the second engine. True enough, however, that would leave them hopelessly exposed.

They were chugging along through a meadow in the Italian countryside. Ahead was a tunnel through a small mountain, on the other side of which was a steep, rocky valley. The single track ran the entire rim of the valley rim before disappearing into another mountain and splitting once again some kilometer or two after. The rock quickly became too hard to blast away, limiting what railroad engineers had been able to accomplish hundreds of years ago, when this route had been established. Only a few meters separated the off-side of the track from the side of the mountain and the near-side from a drop to the valley floor, because of the rock's qualities, leaving room for only one train at a time. As such, there was no place to stop the train once it passed through the first tunnel. TO solve the problem, on either side of the valley, going to or coming from Roma, the track first merged into one several hundred kilometers from the tunnel entrance, then veered off into a long siding where one train could wait safely for another to pass before continuing on its way. It was designed to handle passenger and small freight trains of up to twenty cars, as anything more than that would remain on the single track and pose a danger. The incoming freight train had left before the one bound for Castra Taurinorum, so it was given privilege to use the single track first.

"So you would have the passengers change seats?" the conductor asked Hugue.

"Yes. We've decided that it would be better if we were dispersed among them," the priest replied. "And we'll inspect the undercarriages of the two engines and all of the coaches while we're at it as a safety precaution. Is that agreeable?" Not that the man had a choice. One of the AX nuns stood with him as a witness. If he did not agree to this, if either Agent survived _if_ something happened, he would be in a _lot_ of trouble.

"O-Oh, of course, that's no problem at all."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Anything for the officers of His Holiness. I will go make the arrangements right now. Excuse me." He bowed quickly and dashed off down the aisle of the dining car, ignoring puzzled glances from the passengers.

Not long after this, the train passed a signal house, illuminated by two small pole-mounted lanterns, only meters away from the points to the siding. The train slowed as it crossed the points and coasted along the tracks, separated from the main line by a thin stand of trees. When the engines finally rolled to a stop, the AX Agents and Inquisitors sprang into action. William and Vaclav followed the conductor as he asked the passengers to vacate the coaches. (Hugue, Leon, and Tres, glared at any who showed signs of resisting.) Nikolai supervised his subordinates as they crawled under the coaches for explosives, and the engines were inspected with even more scrutiny.

"What on earth are we doing out here?" one man grumbled. "We were sitting comfortably in our compartments in complete safety—"

"_Complete_ safety, Sir?" Hugue asked amiably, helping a lady from the coach, the picture of gentility. _"Nothing_ at this moment is completely safe." He swung on the man and his young wife—he assumed her to be his wife. "If you are a resident of Roma, or at the very least are in possession of _half_ a brain, you would know that we have suffered under the onslaught of Methuselah radicals. I do not think you want to be cleaved in half by a bomb attached to a coach or scaled by steam from a detonated engine. And if _that_ doesn't happen, then your lovely lady can be taken by the vampires right in front of you, and I don't mean taken _away."_

The couple blanched. _"What?"_

"I think you heard me the first time, but I'll make it simpler for you anyway: if we all aren't blown to bits by a bomb, you might have to watch your woman here raped mercilessly while you watch."

"He's lying, isn't he, dear?" the woman gasped.

"No, I'm not. Regardless, we are going to do our duty and ensure your safety and our own." As he said this, two Inquisitors members walked past, patrolling the surrounding tree-line and shrubs for attackers. He left them and joined the other Agents, who stood on the roofs of all of the coaches.

Abel stayed by William's and Vaclav's side. "I don't remember being on a mission the likes of this before," he said, "even during the first rebellion in Albion."

"It's quite a sight, isn't it?" asked William. "Such times we live in."

"And so many new faces." He looked around sadly at all of the junior Agents and new seniors; Solania and Isis had been rookies when he had last seen them six years ago, but they were instructing _new_ rookies now, he had been told.

William nudged him a little. "Come, come, old boy, it's the nature of our vocation."

"Perhaps, but the losses would not have been nearly as bad if—"

"None, of that, now; I'll not hear any talk of blaming _you_ for this, either from others or from Abel Nightroad himself."

"He hasn't changed that much after all, our Atlas," Vaclav said grimly.

"What?" the silver-haired priest asked.

"Solemn as ever, you take on all the world's problems as well as your own, like the deity Atlas." His and William's earpieces crackled to life. "Yes?"

"_Know Faith, this is the Lance of Virtue. My officers have told me that the coaches and engines are clean. Shall we put the passengers back onto the train?"_

"That would depend on what Gunslinger reports on the luggage."

"_Status report: no explosives were found with the passengers,"_ Tres chimed in conveniently.

"That leaves the report from Huntress, then."

After a pause, a light female voice broke in. _"The other train is almost here. I think we should wait until it has passed to let the passengers re-board."_

"_Affirmative. It would be in our best interest to keep the civilians off of the train until then. They can escape to the forest if a fight erupts."_

"_And my Inquisitors can keep an eye on them if they plan to _start _said fight."_

"Very well," Vaclav said, while William repeated the gist of the conversation for Abel, as Tres was still working on his earpiece—or so the android said.

After word had gone around, the civilians were herded closer together behind a ring of Inquisitors. All of the AX Agents remained on the roofs of the coaches, as the engines continued to idle mournfully in the siding. Then, save for the slow leak of steam escaping valves, they waited in tense silence. The other train was still deep within the mountain, and only Lavinia could hear its approach, but she predicted that it would not be a long wait as it sounded like the train was moving at a good clip.

"William?" Abel muttered in the darkness.

"Hmm?"

"Who is this 'huntress' you were telling me about?"

"'Huntress?' She's one of our junior Agents, old boy." He grinned at his friend, teeth glowing white. "She's the one who nearly shot you."

"…Oh." From their position, he could vaguely see her perched atop the cab of the first engine, where she had been since the train had stopped. It figured that the one who could hear his approach in a noisy station would be named "Huntress."

Soon enough, the sound of the incoming train could be heard by the other agents and the civilians.

"_All right, everyone,"_ Lavinia said through their earpieces. _"The other train is nearly upon us. Brace yourselves."_ The click of disengaged safeties was all that penetrated the darkness after that.

Then the Roma-bound train charged out of the tunnel, preceded by a plume of steam and soot backlit by the headlight fixed to the very tip of the nose of the first engine. Three large engines hauled freight car after freight car behind them, numbering nearly thirty, all heavily loaded by the deep rumbling that could be felt in every person's chest and even through the feet of those standing on roofs of the coaches. The agents stilled and had their weapons at the ready as the train passed at full speed on the other side of the trees. Even after it had disappeared into the night they waited.

"_Huntress—"_

"_I don't hear anything else but the train and a few animals. Let the people re-board."_

* * *

Without further incident the passengers were allowed to board the train again and settle down as the two engines began to move out of the siding toward the tunnel.

They had already stopped at the station beyond the mountains, dropping off some people and taking in new ones before moving off again. The next station was a few hundred kilometers away, and there were two more on the schedule before the train reached Castra Taurinorum. For now, nothing but dark countryside surrounded them.

Cecilia sat alone in the compartment of the coach looking at the land passing by. The senior officers had left to plan once again, leaving their juniors to guard the coaches. She knew one of the other AX priests occupied another compartment in this coach and that several Inquisitors mingled with the civilians. She hoped all of their precautions would not prove useful tonight, and that they would not have to fight aboard this train. Since it was nighttime, Methuselah could travel freely, without wearing cloaks, and could pass as humans if they wanted to. If there _were_ vampires aboard, she hoped they were moderates.

She heard footsteps in the aisle; some went to the other compartments, but one set stopped in front of her door. She looked away from the window, hand reaching for a dagger, but was surprised to see the priest walk in. "Father Hugue? Is something the matter?"

"No," he replied. He walked in and took the seat opposite her. "But I do have news."

"Oh?"

"For one, you and I will be partners on this mission."

"We will?"

"Yes."

"And after Castra—"

"By 'this mission,' I meant Castra Taurinorum and beyond."

"Oh, I see."

"Second," he went on in a lower voice, "we're to be on high alert now that we're getting closer to our destination. A few vampires have boarded."

"I understand."

"We've checked them out and found nothing, but we still have to be aware." She nodded. "Tres will be walking up and down the aisles of the train, and Lavinia will be listening for anything suspicious. We've nothing to do but wait for the word."

Three coaches away, near the end of the train, Abel and Alma had just reached the compartment where Lavinia and one of the less-experienced Inquisitors sat. "Hello, you two," he said amiably.

The young priest and nun looked up. "Oh, hello, Father Nightroad."

"What brings you here?" Lavinia asked.

"We've decided to pair up for this," the healer replied. "Come with me, Demetrius."

"Yes, Sister." He stood up and picked up his sword. "Good night, Sister Lavinia." He stepped past Abel with a little bow and followed Alma to another compartment. The silver-haired priest stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He noticed the young woman who was to be his partner blushed as she fiddled with her rosary.

"We didn't interrupt anything, did we?" he asked.

"Ah, no, you didn't, Father Nightroad."

"Oh, good." He walked fully into the compartment and sat down opposite her.

"Am I to listen for anything out of the ordinary?"

Abel looked up at her in surprise. "Why, yes." Then he chuckled a little. "Were you listening already?"

"No, but that is usually the task I am given."

"I see. Well, I'll leave you to it, then." He said nothing after that, nor did he attempt to do so throughout the journey to the next two stations.

For her part, Lavinia could not help but notice how reserved the man was. Only hours earlier he had been laughing with the other Agents as they had caught up over tea in the dining car. Now he sat as still as a statue, hands in his lap, chin buried deep behind the collar of his cape, and completely lost in thought. Had he been forcing his jollity?

Still with her eyes closed, she said quietly, "Father Nightroad?"

That broke him from his trance. "Yes? What is it?"

"I, ah...I hope you can forgive me for nearly firing upon you."

"Oh…?" She could hear the smile in his voice. "Don't be silly. I suppose it serves me right for sneaking around in the shadows like that. I had forgotten how sharp AX Agents were and what abilities they might have."

"Still, I—" She stiffened and her eyes popped open.

"Sister? Sister, what is it?" He was worried; she had sat bolt upright in the seat and her eyes were unfocused. "Sister Lavinia—"

The young woman's eyes returned to normal. She ignored the priest's questions and tapped her earpiece. "We have trouble. Two Methuselah in the dining car are planning something."

Leon was the one to respond. _"We're on it, Huntress."_

"How could you tell they were in the dining car?" Abel asked, readying his revolver.

"I could hear them discussing it and rattling chinaware around them," she replied quickly, checking that all of her weapons were in place. Heavy footsteps stopped in front of their door, followed by a soft knock.

"May I come in?" a young man asked. Abel drew his pistol.

"Father, what are you doing, that's—" He fired through the thin wooden door. Splintered wood flew everywhere and the small compartment filled with thick white smoke. Blood-curdling screams came through the wall from the aisle. "Father!"

He stood and kicked the door open. "He was not one of our allies!" A young male vampire lay in a pool of his own blood on the floor, writhing in pain as the silver poisoned him. _"Out of your compartments, all of you! We're under siege!"_

"We're aware of that, Father!" Demetrius called back, slashing at a vampire with his sword. "GO to the front of the train, Father! Sister Alma says they're having more trouble there!"

"Can you handle yourself here?"

"Yes, now _go!"_

"All right. Come, Sister." He was about to open the door that led to the next coach when an explosion ripped through the rear of the train. Everyone was knocked to their feet, and the light went out. Abel and Lavinia climbed to the roof of the coach and looked at the damage. The second engine at the end of the train had been completely obliterated, as had been the rearmost coach, and the one in front of that lay in smoldering pieces along the track behind them. The next one had been blown nearly in half, and only the front trucks remained on the rails while the rest clattered behind in flames, attached only by the structured cabled running up and down the length of the coach. Fire threatened to spread to their coach, given the direction of the wind. Lavinia took off in a blur, much to Abel's shock, and jumped down between the two coaches, much to his horror as he braved searing heat to watch her. She saw that there was an emergency release lever on the side of the coupling mechanism, painted red to distinguish it. She leaned down and kicked at it with the heel of her boot; one last solid kick released the mechanism, and the flaming deathtrap that had been an elegant railcar dropped away almost instantly.

She still heard fighting inside and opened the door. One Inquisitor lay dead on the ground, half in her compartment, while the Alma stood between two menacing Methuselah. The one with his back to her held a sharp pike in his hands, and turned to look behind him when he felt the sudden rush of cool night air on his back. She, however, struck first and stabbed him once in the side with a silver dagger and once again in the neck.

"A Terran with our speed?" the other vampire gasped. "Why—"

The healer reached back and grabbed his arm. _"Worry about yourself rather than her, assassin!"_ He shrieked as her deadly energy poured into his body, forcing it to decompose cell by cell as he breathed. Radiating from that one spot, much like ripples in a pond or a crack in the ice, his flesh turned black and crumbled away before his eyes, and within a minute he had been consumed.

Such was the power of Sisters Three. She could heal as well as harm, and harm she did when she decided the thread of life had lasted long enough and needed to be cut.

"Sister Alma, are you all right?" Lavinia asked.

"Yes, dear, now go help the others. Where is Abel?"

"He's still on the roof of the coach, I think." She swung herself out of the window and back onto the roof, failed to find Abel, and looked around. Much of the fighting had already migrated here from the confines of the coaches. Heavy gunfire and flashed of light came from the foremost car, undoubtedly from Tres' cannons and William's flame-throwing cane. Alma climbed to the roof a coach near the middle of the train and formed up with Leona and Vaclav. Hugue and Cecilia were squaring off with a pair of vampires just in front of her, and another was creeping up on them from their off side. She kicked off and rushed the female at full speed, if only to distract her, and spun around to fire off a few silver throwing-needles before diving into the observation car. William and Nikolai stood guard over terrified civilians in the destroyed upper deck, under the shattered skylight, and jumped when she landed in front of them.

"Goodness, Lavinia, I could have lashed out at you with an entrance like that!" the professor cried, having held it at her heart.

"Forgive me, Father William. What goes on here?"

"A man started firing wildly in the dining car," a well-dressed woman replied shakily, "and then others did the same in here. We ran to the upper deck and hid. Then the Inquisitor crashed through the skylight while he was under attack and stayed here with us."

"I've been helping him to hold up the fort since then," William added. "These are the last of the passengers up and about. The others were killed in the explosion at the rear or in the crossfire forward, or they lay bleeding somewhere. Where's Abel?"

"I thought he would be here. I detached the burning coach and helped Sister Alma, and in that time I lost him."

"He and Leon are in the forward cars right now."

"I'll go to them, then, unless you need help here?"

"No, no, girl," said Nikolai. "Away with you."

"All right." She leapt back out of the skylight and ducked a bullet that whizzed over her head. A vampire had his head poking out of a window a few feet away and was aiming for her again. She sped out of his range and answered with a few shots from her own pistol, though she did not know if they hit their mark. She ran along the roof to the front of the train until an explosion of glass underneath her feet stopped her where she stood. She could not hear anything over the roar of the wind, so she carefully lay on her stomach and peeked in through the same window. She could just see Abel and Leon at the far end of the aisle and what she assumed to be a Methuselah stood in front of them. If she could angle for a shot she could get rid of him easily enough….

She saw the inside of the coach glow red and the plasma scepter the vampire held in his hand. If he loosed that thing now it would destroy what was left of the train! She left her perch and made for the rear door between this coach and the next, kicked it open, and swung inside. She drew her pistol. "In the name of—"

"Don't waste your silver!" Leon rasped. "They're human!"

Human?

_They?_

She holstered her pistol just as the scepter-wielder turned to face her, and she was shocked to find that he was, indeed, a human. Another man knelt next to him companion, bleeding but still able to hold a shotgun well enough.

"Well, look at this, another foe," Scepter-Wielder drawled, while his friend aimed at her.

"Forget it," Abel snarled. "Forget whatever witty speech you had in mind and put down the gun! What business have you with the radicals?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked, looking at the priest again. "We're sympathizers. We feel the Methuselah have endured many wrongs and wish to help them right the world."

"By blowing up a train to Castra Taurinorum, you—"

"Oh, we didn't right the wrongs by doing _this_; this was just an insult to the Vatican. No, we righted the wrong by slaughtering the governors of the town, who did nothing to stop the clergy of the Basilica of Superga from turning a blind eye to beatings, rapes, and unjust murders. This is just…fallout, I suppose."

"_What?"_ the Agents gasped. Had they found out about the mission and struck earlier?

"I know what you're all thinking, and no we did not _just_ find out and struck early; we lied intentionally when we found out the Vatican had sent spies after us." He shrugged. "Well, I hardly see how you can be surprised that we took such an opportunity."

"This is terrorism!" Abel argued.

"Some would call it that, but to each their own. What you see as terrorism, I—we, I should say—see as…making our displeasure known." He laughed a little at that. "But then, was not the violent spread of Christianity making displeasure of 'pagan' religions known? Who was the terrorist then?" They flinched under his cold stare. "Hmm, where has that pretty girl gone?"

His companion with the shotgun slumped to the floor next to him. _"What the hell?"_

Cold metal touched his temple; with a shudder he realized the nun had somehow killed his partner without a sound, and now held the business-end of a pistol to his head. She lashed out with horrifying speed, that of a Methuselah, and lopped his scepter-hand off with one of her daggers. He screamed at the thought of the pistol used as a distraction. He had a mind to use his last moments fighting her when another explosion from the rear of the train sent the coach rocking on its wheels.

"_Now_ what?" Leon groaned, heaving himself to his feet.

"Leave him with us, Sister," said Abel, arm hanging limp at his side. "See to that—"

Cecilia, bleeding badly from several gashes, opened the door of the coach immediately behind them. "They've set fire to the rest of the coaches!"

"Ah, good, they've managed after all," the man wheezed. He was promptly punched by Leon, bleeding or not, and collapsed to the floor. The big priest picked him up.

"Where are we going?"

"We've kept the fire away from the observation car. Hurry!" She led the way, followed by the two priests and Lavinia, who released the emergency lever and uncoupled their shelter from the main engine and the forward coaches. Hugue mimicked her and, with momentum, they pulled away from the burning coaches behind them. They were now effectively stranded, with no way to move either way along the track.

Tres' 30-milimeter cannons blasted through the roof, killing three Methuselah with shovels full of hot coals to start a fire, as the main engine left them behind, mindlessly following the tracks toward Castra Taurinorum. God willing, the railway could be contacted so they could divert it harmlessly into an empty siding somewhere and deal with it then, if the drivers had not already done so.

They joined their comrades and the civilians on the upper deck. Under a cruelly clear, star-light sky, they watched the rest of the train burn not fifty meters away.


	10. Nine

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters seen in the original Trinity Blood television series. The plot of this fan-fiction and any character other than those mentioned above, however, do belong to me._

Corvo Nero, Colombo Bianco

Nine

"Monsignor?"

"Hm?" the Abbott of St. Remi mumbled sleepily.

"Monsignor, please wake up. There is something amiss."

The Abbott sat bolt upright in his cot. _"What?_ Amiss?"

The young monk holding the lantern, already shaking, jumped back as his superior groped for his robes. "Y-Yes, Monsignor. A group of rather frightening people have arrived, and they insisted to speak with you."

"Lord above!" the Abbott exclaimed. He pulled his cloak over his shoulders. "Let us go then, quickly!"

"B-But, Monsignor, should you not stay here while the other monks tend to them?" He wanted to _warn_ the Abbott, not have him get up and see to the matter _himself!_ They could be murderers!

"Nonsense, Etienne, it is my duty! Come!"

Monsignor Jean-Francois Marcuard, Abbott of the Royal Abbey of St. Remi for the past twenty years, pulled his cloak closer over his shoulders as the younger man continued to babble about the safety for his life as a servant of God, senior monks, and frightful people waiting in the courtyard. He had seen Methuselah wipe out half a neighborhood for the sake of killing, had had one of their cursed demon blades pressed to his neck so that he saw where metal joined the arm, and had had his bodyguards slaughtered while those monsters laughed at him. Just how "frightful" these people were remained to be seen.

Nervous monks had been roused from their cots and fell in step with himself and Etienne. The long walk from the dormitories through the meditation garden and to the main door was abuzz with mumbling and chatter. Two armed monks stood by the door, peering out through a mere crack of a window. They looked at him desperately. "M-Monsignor‒"

"Well, what is it?" He rounded on the monks behind him. _"Silence!"_

"Our apologies, Mon‒"

"_Who_ is at the door?"

"A-Ah," said the one guard, "well we don't know, Monsignor."

"What do you mean?! Your job is to stand at the door and take note of the identities of every visitor we receive, and here you are _cowering!"_

"They looked so dreadful‒"

"Oh, _really!"_ He took the lantern from Etienne with a growl and pushed past the guards. He was greeted by a cool blast of air from the courtyard, somehow cooler than the rest of the night. Though it had been sunny all day, clouds had moved in and covered the moon, the night so dark the lantern barely affected it. "Who goes there?"

"Beg pardon, Monsignor, for arriving at such an hour, but we were not able to prevent the delay," a kindly English man replied. From what little good the lantern did, he could tell that the man was clean-shaven and a priest. His cassock was in tatters, though. How odd for a priest.

"You have yet to answer my question, sir. Whom do I look upon? What is your allegiance?"

"We are Agents of Her Eminence Cardinal Caterina Sforza, Duchess of Milan. We were due some hours ago, but were unwillingly involved with some trouble along the way."

"Is that so?" Immediately the monks inside had erupted in chatter once again. _"Be silent!"_

"Our apologies, Monsignor."

"Oh, good, you _are_ the Abbott. Monsignor Marcuard, is it?"

"Well, you know who _I_ am. Who might _you_ be?"

"I am AX Member Professor. I and my comrades have arrived as promised to aid in the defense of Durocortōrum."

"How can I be sure of that?" He started when a towering wall of armor appeared before him. Clearly housing a man within‒as indicated by the sculpted breastplate‒the figure was draped in red cloth. Gold thread formed a large cross in the middle of his chest, one that belonged to the most infamous organization within the Church.

"Do you doubt, sir, the appearance of one of His Holiness' Inquisitors, defenders of the True Faith?" Without waiting for a reply, he added, "I am known as the Lance of Virtue, servant of His Eminence Francesco de'Medici, Duke of Florence." Nikolai, the Lance of Virtue, snatched the lantern from the Abbott and held it closer to his face so that he could be seen. "Do you doubt now, sir?"

"Certainly not," the other man replied after slight hesitation. He bowed to his superiors. "My most humble apologies, sir, to you and to your party. With matters as they are‒"

"Never mind that," Nikolai interjected. "Now, we will take care to fulfill our obligations as your guardians as soon as possible. Given our ordeal, half of our company lay here, wounded, and need treatment; the other half patrol as we speak."

"Oh, I see."

"Before we enter, those who are able will patrol the entire area."

"Well, I suppose you can‒"

"It was _not_ a request." He handed the lantern back and turned to the other Agents. They all talked quietly among themselves for a few moments, during which time the clouds pulled away from the moon. Half-full or not, the heavenly body cast enough of its light to brighten everything. The monks of St. Remi cowered at the sight of torn priests' cassocks and nuns' habits, dried blood, and grievous wounds. (It was enough to distract them from the fact that nearly all of the nuns wore armored corsets and revealing plate armor on their legs under their normal uniforms.)

Nikolai returned to the Abbott's side, much calmer now. "I will leave these three gentlemen with you, while I lead the perimeter investigation."

"But I assure you that no such need exist! We are only monks here‒"

"Negative," Tres said from the shadows, so suddenly that the Abbot practically leapt into Nikolai's arms. "There is a chance that the vampires might have taken to hiding within this area, specifically the abbey and the basilica. If we search now the likelihood of our finding the vampires before they strike is doubled."

"Ah...all right."

"These men will explain everything you must know. You've just meet the Professor. We have here 'Know Faith' and 'Crusnik.' If you will excuse me." Nikolai bowed and marched past him and his fellow Agents, followed by Tres, Demitri, and a female Inquisitor.

The Abbott settled the nervous monks once again and turned to his new companions. In the moonlight, he realized he had been correct in assuming that this "Professor" liked to remain clean-shaven, though he had been beaten up a bit and left bruised by his attackers. Know Faith had had most of the top of his cassock torn away, exposing his arms and part of his chest (most of which was covered in blood from a deep gash in his right shoulder, now wrapped with a rough bandage). Crusnik was a rather melancholy-looking younger man, also scraped up and bruised, but the Abbott was struck by the sapphire eyes and hair as silver as the moon. He looked more a scholar than a warrior priest of the Vatican!

"Is something the matter, Monsignor?" the silver-haired priest asked.

"I-I beg your pardon?"

"You were staring, sir. Is something wrong?"

"O-Oh, no; I, em, I just wonder how it is your comrades will search the basilica and abbey before dawn. Surely on foot‒"

"You needn't worry about that, Monsignor," William said. He looked over his shoulder. "Shadow Stalker, if you would join us please?"

A beautiful woman left off talking to a wounded Inquisitor, limping on a wounded leg and shocking the monks, who only now realized how revealing her body armor really was, much to their horror. "Yes, Professor?"

"I noticed that the Inquisitors did not go to the basilica. Perhaps you could lead Huntress and a few others I doing so?"

"Huntress is currently listening for threats, but I will go myself, if you like."

"Be careful, then."

"Of course." She curtsied to the Abbott and disappeared into the night as a white cloud. The monks gasped and crossed themselves while the Abbott spluttered.

"Wha-What was _that?!"_

"What was what?"

"That woman just vanished!"

"Oh, Shadow Stalker? Yes, she tends to do that."

"Sweet Mother in heaven!"

"What's the matter?"

"Why, I never saw such evil! What clergyman uses such barbaric methods to do God's work! Only those monstrous vampires have abilities like hers!"

"I assure you that it's quite all right‒"

"I have every right to be suspicious! To think Her Eminence employs such magic-users‒" Nikolai, having apparently heard this, phased through the wall next to the man. "Is there some trouble here?"

"The Inquisitor, too? Why, I never‒" A glowering priest with blond hair and dark green eyes grabbed the Abbott by the throat and held him up so that he was at eye level.

"Now listen here, and listen good, _Monsignor._ Do you seriously doubt the judgement of His Holiness and his Cardinals? Of _course_ you don't. So I will say this only _once:_ we were given our duties with full approval by the Papacy, as _elite_ defenders of the Faith, and to do so we must make use of various otherworldly abilities that were granted to us. You will refrain from referring to us as 'magic-users' or I‒"

"All right, Sword Dancer, that's enough," Vaclav said. "Kindly put the man down." The blond priest did so, reluctantly, and the Abbott heaved for breath.

"Well, now that Sword Dancer has had his say, perhaps you could have our wounded situated in spare quarters for the time being. After that we'll tell you all we know so far," William said wearily.

* * *

"So the incident at Castra Taurinorum was a ruse?" the Abbott asked over water (as he disallowed even tea for himself and his monks). By this time Leon had also joined the meeting.

"Yes, replied William. "Well, the timing of it had been a ruse. We found out from our ambushers that the individuals we were sent to protect had already been killed earlier that day, and we had purposefully been given false information. They wanted to get rid of us in the night while we were under way on the train."

"But if they killed them during the day, why not do the same again?"

"They knew we would only be able to procure a train such as ours at night," Vaclav said.

"They probably had a spy in our planning board," added William.

"Good Lord above!"

"They _originally_ planned to attack us when we arrived at the city, greeted not by the occupants but by rivers of blood."

"How terrible!" the Abbott replied. "Thank the Lord you were able to survive. I trust you did not lose anyone to the rebels?"

"No, indeed," said Vaclav. "Now, we were told that the governors of Castra Taurinorum were killed because they did nothing to help the Methuselah of the city, and as we have word of a faction _here,_ I wonder who might be their next target. Yourself perhaps?"

"Certainly so," the Abbott said matter-of-factly, "but I have no shame. It is beneath me as a member of God's Church to pander to those heathens as others do. _Disgusting."_

"Ah, right," said William. "Anyone else?"

"The Marquise, perhaps. She does not quite agree with my stance on the matter of vampires, but she does not bow to them, either. Her mansion is across the street from the parliament house in the center of town. So far I haven't heard any rumors of a plot against her, but you clearly have more information than I."

"She's in town at the moment?"

"That I don't know. I think she's just gone away on official business at the king's palace for the week."

"I see."

"We could always plan a welcome for any assassins that might come to the house," Leon said savagely. "'Give _us_ the chance to surprise _them_ for once."

"Be reasonable, Dandelion," Vaclav said, ignoring the Spaniard's seething look at the mention of his less-than-dignified codename. "I don't think the Marquise will want us in her home, even if we are from the Vatican."

"I think it could work," said Abel. "We can't _barge_ in, of course, but if we made our case to the person guarding the house. We might even be able to have one of the sisters pose as the Marquise until she returns. Do the MP's reside in any buildings near the lady's, Monsignor?"

"No, not _immediately_ nearby; most of them live in neighboring streets."

"We might be able to get them to co-operate with us."

"I don't think so, Crusnik," said William. "If any _one_ of them knows of us and are sympathizers‒"

"Yes, I see your point."

"Quite."

"Still, the idea of one of the nuns posing as her is a good one," said Leon. "What does the Marquise look like?"

"She is of fair complexion with light golden-brown hair and hazel eyes," replied the Abbott.

"I think fair Blaze fits the description, yes?" said William.

"Indeed she _does,"_ Leon replied. He stood up and put his hands on his hips. "Let's go find the Lance of Virtue and the others and discuss it with them."

"Blaze is probably with Sisters Three in the infirmary right now‒she usually helps her. Will you join us, Monsignor?"

"Certainly," said the Abbott. "This 'Sisters Three' is your physician, yes?"

"Oh yes. You'll see."

The infirmary was next to the dormitories, which was on the other side of the reflecting garden from the Abbott's personal office, where the men had been speaking. The monks had been sent back to bed, as the next mass was a mere hour away, and only the physician and his aids were permitted to be awake. A few Inquisitors were making rounds, as well, and two cadets passed the Abbott and the Vatican priests with a brief nod. And while he expected to see group of injured priests and nuns occupying the cots in the infirmary, he was thoroughly surprised to see _his_ physician gazing in wonder at one of the nuns, as were a great many of the monks who were supposed to be in bed. What was more, all of the Vatican clergy were up and walking around; they could only barely stand earlier!

"What goes on here?!" he exclaimed. "I told only Brother Martin to be awake!"

Alma turned to him and smiled briefly, the glow of her hands highlighting her face. "Good morning, all." She turned back to her patient, Hugue, who sat patiently on a bench while her healing glow repaired a cut on the back of his shoulder.

"What trickery is this?!"

"No trickery, Monsignor," Brother Martin the physician replied happily. "Truly, this is the work of God! Look how she heals this man!"

"Nonsense!"

"Wrong, Monsignor Jean-Francois Marcuard," Tres said flatly from his station near the only window. "Sisters Three has the power to repair injuries almost instantly, speeding recovery time by nearly ninety percent."

As if to punctuate the point, Alma released her power. "All done, Sword Dancer. You can put on a new cassock now."

"Thank you," the blonde priest replied. He cast an icy look at the Abbott as he pulled on a new robe, while a young monk of about sixteen held a new cape for him eagerly.

"This woman is truly amazing, Monsignor!" Martin went on. "Her power augments the body's own healing capacity by _miles!_ Why, she healed these people's injuries in mere minutes!"

"I...don't believe it," the Abbott said, still gaping.

"I shall change that, Monsignor," Alma replied, and she beckoned to Abel. "Come here, Crusnik, I have yet to tend to your arm."

The priest smiled back at her. "Thank you, Sister, but I assure you it is already much better."

"Nonsense; come here."

"Very well," he sighed; Leon did not stifle a chuckle. He stripped out of his ruined cassock, wincing a little as he pulled his wounded arm from the sleeve.

"I saw that," the healer said. "Sit down while fresh garments are brought out."

"Before you begin, Sister, I wanted to speak with Blaze for a moment. Do you know where she's gotten to?" asked Vaclav.

"I believe she is with Huntress in the basilica. Try to call her on her earpiece."

Leona poked her head around a folding screen, buttoning a new white habit. "No need to do that, I will go over and tell her. What shall I say?"

"Join me over here for a moment and I'll tell you."

"Monsignor, come and see!" Martin called from the bench.

The Abbott walked over cautiously and looked over Martin's shoulder. The woman held both hands to Abel's arm, and he stared as he watched the flesh knitting together before his eyes. Again: "I...don't believe it."

"I didn't either, at first," said Martin, "but she restored an Inquisitor to walking condition in ten minutes. A gash, it was, on his calf; painful and devastating, normally, and would have a man bedridden for weeks, but he was up and about in no time!"

"...Does this give you any pain?" he asked Abel.

"No, not at all," the priest replied amiably. "Sisters Three is most gentle."

"Right, then," said Vaclav, cutting off the conversation. "Shadow Stalker here will fetch Blaze and we will hash out our plan."

"I won't be a minute," Leona said. "Good morning, Monsignor." She disappeared into a cloud of white smoke once again, and the Abbott nearly fainted.

William leaned closer to the deathly-pale man. "Are you all right?"

"Ah, y-yes...I-I must return to my office."

"I will join you, then, if you don't mind. You look as though you need a minute‒"

"Yes, yes, I do. I..." His voice trailed away as he made for the corridor.

"Oh, dear. Leona scared the poor boy to death."

* * *

"Good night, Marquise Durocortōrum," the manservant said quietly as he closed the door.

"Good night, Claude," she replied.

It was late, much later than she usually stayed awake, but she had had so much to do when she returned to the city. Why on _earth_ did the King of the Franks insist on keeping his vassals at the palace for so long? The same thing happened _every time:_ the king's lords and ladies got up early, made their way to the palace, and for a week ate brunch and listened to his minsters blather on about the running of _their_ estates. They acted as though _they,_ a group of _laymen,_ could run a noble's domain! King-appointed or not, what right had they to think such a thing? As if a man as well suited to baking as pretending they were up to the task of running her family's lands could actually do it! And the confidence with which they spouted their ideas showed just how little they knew of their king. He always gave his nobles what they wanted‒after all, it had been the reason why the Royal Family had been able to acquire as much land as they had over the centuries.

_Of course, my Lord, you may have the land by the river, if my second daughter may marry your son when they are of age._

_Of course, my Lord, if you would be so generous as to grant me dominion of the valley territory, as opposed to the Marquis of So-and-So, my nephew would be happy to marry your daughter when she has grown (he'll be a young man and ready to take over for me by then, after all)._

_Of course, my Lord, since my late husband agreed to this prior to his death, our lands default to you; just see to it that I marry well and my children are protected._

The Royal domain had begun as a bakery-sized plot of land way back when. Now it was three times the size of Versailles Nouveau, thanks to deals like that, and well the King knew it. He would not go against any of the powerful noble families, especially of the rulers of Aquitaine and Normandy.

She turned off the light in the receiving parlor of her and her husband's private quarters on the second floor and made her way to the false-door in the back of the room, which led to the bathroom. The metal shutters had been lowered the moment the sun showed signs of setting, so any light from within was hidden from the outside, and helped to hide their presence in the house. Were any Methuselah to attempt an assassination, she had been told, even with night vision, they would have a problem in the pitch-black of a room.

She closed the false-door behind her and groped her way through the bathroom behind it, and then into her bedroom. Her husband had already climbed into bed, but he had left a small candle lit on his nightstand.

Dear Simon; she smiled at the thought. Her beloved husband of two years had grown into his role of Marquis quite well. He was the third son of a lesser noble, expected to be a clergyman or a soldier, at best, as he had two older brothers and a sister between him and his father's wealth. He had chosen the latter occupation and became an aide to one of the king's generals at the palace. The previous Marquis Durocortōrum, her father, had brought his only child and heir with him when the king had called a nobles' council, and there she had met the young man. They had married soon after and settled into subservience to her ailing father until, a few months ago, he had died in his sleep. While she had grieved and tended to his funeral, her husband Simon handled administrative matters within the domain with surprising ease. He ran this estate better than his eldest brother ran his own, and the man hadn't even been groomed for it!

She blew out her candle, as well as the one on her husband's nightstand, and slid into bed. He was not yet fully asleep, apparently, and mumbled incoherently as he turned over and pulled her closer to him.

"Finished working?' he managed.

"I'm sorry I woke you, dear," she replied. "Go back to sleep."

"Hm, you didn't," he said thickly, absently nuzzling the back of her neck.

"Simon, no, I really am tired," she said with a stifled giggle. That did not matter to him, and he kept at it.

"As am I, but I intend to work myself up to a bone-deep sleep. Is that not appealing to you?" Slightly more awake now, his nuzzles turned to kisses and trailed to her collarbone.

"Well, it _is_ tempting," she said, this time not suppressing a laugh as he pulled her nightgown up to her hips.

They did not get very far; occasionally they would be overcome by weariness rather than lust and fall asleep in the middle of everything, sad to say. At one point she felt the bed move and thought Simon had gotten up to use the toilet, and went to sleep again. The next time she woke up, however, she did not feel her husband's weight next to her on the bed.

"Simon?" she muttered. She made to sit up, but she was pounced upon from the darkness and pinned to the bed. _"Wha‒?"_

"My, my, Marquise," a man rasped in her ear, "how very oblivious you are! Your husband has been with us for quite a while!"

"You monster!" (He laughed at the.) "What have you done with my Simon? Where is he?"

"He's safe, don't you worry, and you can have him back after we have a bit of a chat."

"What _about?"_ she snarled.

"It is about your treatment of our kind, Milady."

"My family has maintained the Night Market for generations, and well you know it! We have done nothing to slight the Methuselah!"

"_Wrong,_ female! We are charged excessive fees to operate the Market and to build underground homes, the rents for which we can hardly afford because we cannot work during the day. Our Terran representatives take more than they deserve for compensation! We've plenty of revenue in this city, more than enough to buy a UV shield like the Empire or Londinium!"

"You know it is the town Treasury who decide such matters! The Parliament is made of merchants and laborers, over whom I've no power!"

"_You_ are the King's vassal and are _entitled_ to the power! Use it!"

"The king's law says I cannot!"

"Listen here, Terran!" he growled. "I'll give you one chance to do what you know is right! Now what say you?!"

"What do I say?" She struggled a little and managed to get an arm free. "I say..._fry,_ Methuselah!" Her hand clamped on the staff she had kept under the pillow, and stunned him with the business end of it. Light as bright as the sun blinded the vampire and send him shrieking away from her, off the bed, and into the opposite wall. She pulled a silver needle from a hidden compartment in the staff, leapt onto the vampire, and stabbed him in the neck. She left him to die while she strapped on a thigh-holster from under the mattress and her earpiece.

The Marquise would not be pleased to see a dead Methuselah next to her bed when she returned.

She had just put her earpiece in when it crackled to life. It was William. _"Blaze, are you there?"_

"Yes, I'm here," Solania replied.

"_We heard banging around, are you all right?"_

"Yes, a Methuselah jumped me. He said the Marquis had been taken a while ago. Is he okay?"

"_Shield of Faith is just fine, I'm told. He was pulled out of the loo and taken to the basement. Join them there, and be careful."_

"Right." The question was, how would she get there in the dark? She couldn't give any other vampires an easy chance to ambush her, so she couldn't take a candle with her. And then, they _might_ have a hard time seeing her, but they could hear her just as well. Why did _she_ have to resemble the Marquise rather than Leona?

She groped her way out of the bedroom, through the bathroom, and out of the parlor without incident, and managed to find the landing of the stairs without tumbling down them. She heard footsteps below her, heavy ones, and got another dagger ready‒

"Agent Blaze, I suggest that you duck," Tres barked from the first floor. She had hardly done so when the android's 30 millimeter rounds shrieked overhead and hit the Methuselah behind her full on. He was catapulted into the wall so hard it cracked around him.

The nun dared not move. "Father?"

"You may get up now. There aren't any others around." He provided light for her so she could walk down the stairs safely. "We're meeting the Inquisitors."

"Is everyone all right?" He had dressed as the head butler, Claude, and his borrowed uniform was worse for wear.

"Yes, although Shield of Faith has some cuts and bruises, none of which are fatal."

They found Nikolai and one of the sisters in his command, dressed as a maid, helping Demitri, the Shield of Faith, to his feet. Naturally, Tres in his under-dramatic manner had glazed over the young man's rather _thorough_ bashing-about and passed it over as a few cuts and bruises. The man stood rather stiffly as the last rope was cut from his wrists.

"Hello, Sister," he said wearily.

"Oh my," he replied. "Are you all right. They weren't too hard on you, were they?"

"No more so than what you might expect for the husband of a reigning noblewoman under siege."

"He'll be all right," Nikolai said proudly. "He fought as valiantly as any Inquisitor should."

"Thank you, sir. I still think Father Tres here would have been better suited for this, since he can change his voice."

"You are wrong, Shield of Fate," the android cut in. "Were I to impersonate the Marquis during this mission, I would have had to perform various tasks as any husband might with his wife."

"Surely, you can manage it‒"

"It is not a question of whether I can or cannot; it is a matter of survival for the lady in question. I _do_ weigh over five hundred pounds, even without my weapons."

"O-Oh?" Solania peeped, imagining herself crushed by Tres earlier.

"Mechanical bodies are not necessarily suited for such things as‒"

"All right, all right," said Nikolai. "We've heard enough."

* * *

"_My house!"_ Marquise Anna Bruchez cried. The chandelier that had been in her family for nearly two centuries lay in a glistening heap on the floor of her foyer. Most of her decorations had been upended and broken, tapestries had been ripped, her entire ten-foot-tall bookcase had been destroyed, the grand piano was a writhing mass of lacquered wood and wires. She could hear water gushing and voices from the kitchen, so the plumbing was probably in shambles.

And that was only on the first level. What of the bedrooms upstairs?

Her husband stepped up beside her. "Dear God‒"

"_Claude!"_ she bellowed. "Claude, where are you?"

The butler walked out onto the landing and, seeing his mistress, ran down the stairs as quickly as he could. He bowed meekly. "Thank heaven you have arrived unharmed, Marquise!"

"What has become of my house, Claude?!"

"It was a matter of utmost importance, Marquise!"

"Such as?"

"I-I am not the one to explain; please wait here and I will get them."

"Who are you talking about?!" she called after him, but he had already started up the stairs. With despair, she picked up a stray piece of crystal.

"Never mind, dear," said her husband. "I'm sure the vaults underneath the house are all right."

"There'll always be hostility," replied the Marquise, "but they would ruin my family's home just to get back at me?"

"I'm afraid that is not the case, Marquise Durocortōrum," Nikolai called down from the landing. With him were Demitiri, Solania, the Abbott, and several members of the town Parliament.

"What are all of _you_ doing here?"

"Oh, Marquise, it's a good thing these merciful Papal Agents came here‒" one of her Ministers began.

"_Papal?"_ the couple gasped, and immediately crossed themselves.

"Yes, Marquise Durocortōrum, we are Agents of the Vatican," Nikolai replied politely. He bowed, as did his comrades and added, "I am the Lance of Virtue, under the command of Cardinal Francesco de'Medici and his Chief Inquisitor." He introduced Demitri and Solania next, and explained that several others were patrolling her estate and the rest of the city as part of their investigation.

"So, the Methuselah were after me?" the woman asked.

"You and the noble class of the cities I mentioned. The bishop at Castra Taurinorum and her followers were killed while we were on the way there, for example."

"And all of this was their attempt to kill me?"

"Well, not quite. The damage down here is from the second and third attempts. The first was thwarted by my young comrades here," Nikolai said, indicating Demitri and Solania.

"Oh?"

"Yes, in your private quarters. I know we took great liberty, Marquise, in entering your home _and_ sleeping quarters, but we could not risk calling you for permission with assassins watching."

"They might have traced the call otherwise," the Marquis said, finishing the thought.

"Exactly. Now, when we appealed to your ministers and butler, we were told that you had been held up on your way home and would still be at the palace until today, and that anyone of influence lowers the shutters to combat Methuselah night vision. Is that so?

"Yes."

"You were right to think it, and it helped us create the first deception greatly. As you, Milady, are the heiress to the estate, we knew the assassins would be focused on _you_ more than your husband, and we chose this priest here to impersonate your husband, and the nun to impersonate you, so that we could spring our trap. They were similar in appearance and had similar voices to your own, so in the dark the Methuselah had no idea we had trapped them."

"They arrived earlier this week," the Abbott said, "and they managed to capture a few vampires before all of this and convinced them to talk about their plans for the two of you. They planned to try to intimidate you, and if you did not give in, they would kill you as an example to your ministers. We all played the part of you, your husband, your house-staff, and beat them back every time.

"They went into my quarters?" the Marquise asked thinly.

"They kidnapped your husband's stand-in after...well, after he and the young lady performed as you and your husband might in your married lives."

"Oh God..."

"And this brings me to my next issue. They figured out we were here and have attacked twice more since then, and they probably know the real Marquise and her husband have returned. I put it to you that you should retreat to another house‒"

"We shall do no such thing!" the lady said firmly.

"But, Anna, that's madness!" he husband said.

"Nonsense, Simon! We will stay here and face the Methuselah ourselves if we have to. These people from the Vatican will be here, won't they?"

"Well, Milady, we have our orders to protect the city as a whole, and we have not many Agents to carry out our orders. I think, if I may say so, that it would be best to leave the city, as we do not have the manpower to protect you."

"Never mind. We will employ extra security until the problem is dealt with, and I'm sure the local police will give you whatever information they have on the Methuselah."

"Very well, Marquise, and thank you for your cooperation. Blaze here has information for _you,_ as well, and I will leave you to it. I must check in with my subordinates. Good day." The Marquise and her husband bade the Inquisitor good day and turned to Solania.

"What do you have to tell us, Sister?" the Marquis asked, trying to ignore the fact that the nun and his wife were nearly mirror-images of each other.

"Well, Milord," the young woman replied, "I was told about an underground market?"

* * *

_If there are any mistakes, forgive me. It's 5:58 in the morning here and I've been at this chapter all night. X_X_


End file.
